A Date by Proxy
by AnneM.Oliver
Summary: Hermione was bored & wanted something new. She changed jobs, her hair, her clothes, and now she was about to do something completely "UnHermionish" & go on a blind date! She just wondered why her blind date was with her new boss, Draco Malfoy. Romance.
1. Chapter 1 Change

All characters belong to JKR

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**Summary:** Hermione Granger was bored and wanted something new. She changed her job, her car, her flat and her hair, and now she did something completely "un-Hermione" and she decided to go on a blind date. Why was her blind date with her new boss Draco Malfoy? And why did she have the feeling that he had arranged the whole thing?

Draco turned around and walked away. She stayed frozen on the spot, and wondered what had just occurred? She looked at her arm, where his hand had just been, and she realized that she found Draco Malfoy slightly appealing, and gee, that was something new for Hermione Granger, too.

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A Date by Proxy

By

Anne M

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**Chapter 1: Change -**

With an uneasiness that bordered on awkwardness, Hermione Granger sat at the large conference table at her new job, with her new boss Draco Malfoy sitting beside her, and oddly enough, he was holding her hand, hence her unease. She didn't know what to say or do, so she just sat there after everyone else had left the room. Only her and Malfoy remained, her hand captive in his, and him reading her personal notes. She knew taking this job was something she wanted, because she wanted something more from her old boring life, but she wasn't sure this was exactly what she had in mind. She wanted to do something to relieve the boredom and tedium in her life, so she made all these changes and became the new Hermione, but now that she had, she thought that the new Hermione might be a bit dafter than the old one.

It was Wednesday, and she had made it through part of the week alive and mostly sane. When she quit her job at the Ministry, she knew she would have a difficult time. She was comfortable at her old job. She was well liked and respected, and she had many friends. The one thing she wasn't was challenged. She felt she did the same thing, day after day, and though her fondest wish was to someday make a difference in this world, after eight years in the same job doing the same thing for the same people she finally realized something: it was just a job, and a boring one at that.

She was bored, not only with her job, but with life in general. She was bored with dating, she was bored with her flat, she was bored with her clothes, and she was bored with herself. Bored, bored, bored. She was determined to do something about it. Therefore, she turned over a proverbial new leaf, and she honestly felt a new Hermione was born.

She started with a new haircut, which always made her feel better. Actually, the new haircut wasn't much different from the old one, but it was still new. The second thing she did was to give up her flat and move into a larger, but desperately need of 'some tender loving care', townhouse. She went out and bought a new wardrobe. She even bought a new car. Then she did the most unexpected thing of all – she called Ginny Weasley and said, "It's time I started dating again. I've not had a boyfriend for eighteen months, and I think its time. I've decided that you can set me up on that blind date you wanted to set me up on."

Ginny squealed with delight over the phone. Hermione hung up the phone, almost picked it back up to cancel, but then left it alone. This was a new Hermione, and the new Hermione would stick to her guns, and finally live life, instead of watching it go by.

Therefore, she harvested her remaining Gryffindor bravery, twelve years after the end of school, and she went to her boss at the Department of Liaison of Magical creatures and she gave him her two-week notice. That was the only thing left to change. She changed her hair, her house, her clothes, and her car. Now, she needed a new adventure, and she wasn't going to find a new adventure at her old job.

Her father thought she was mad. Her mother thought she was sad. Her friends thought she was joking. She wasn't any of those things. What she was, well, that was simple and already established... she was bored. When she first started working at the Ministry, she thought she would help with House Elf rights, and help Centaurs gain recognition in the magical community, but everything she did felt as if it was one-step forward, and four steps back. In eight years, she had accomplished nothing, and for a witch who had high expectations, 'nothing' was not acceptable.

She sat in her cubicle that day, ate her cheese sandwich, and edited a bill she was trying to enact into law to allow Goblins the right to reclaim ancient Goblin-made artifacts, when she noticed an advertisement in the Daily Prophet for a job at Malfoy Industries. The little advertisement caught her attention with the very first line…"_Are you tired of your current job? Would you like to make a difference? Come join Malfoy Industries, where innovation is our middle name_." She laughed at first, because after all, it was a bit hokey. Then she read it again, and she said, "I'm tired of my current job."

She looked at the unedited copy of the Goblin Artifact Bill, and realized that in eight years at her job, not one of her bills was ever enacted into law, and she put down her half-eaten sandwich, scooted her chair out from her desk, and smiled. She walked to her supervisor's office, still smiling. Then she went into the man's office without knocking and without even knowing if she would get a job at Malfoy Industries, and she gave her two-week notice on the spot.

Two weeks later, the day after her last day at work, she secured an interview at Malfoy Industries.

Her interview was with a man she had gone to school with, but didn't really know, since he was a bit older than she was. His name was Adrian Pucey. He was tall, good-looking and affable and he told her that all they had were entry-level positions, for which she was overqualified to fill. He shook her hand, and told her goodbye.

She left his office and waited for the lifts. She didn't need Malfoy Industries. Hell, the very name gave her the 'creeps'. It was certain that Draco Malfoy was probably involved in the business, some way or the other, and she hadn't had much dealing with him since Hogwarts, and she never really liked him much, so who cared? She would find another job…surely there were other jobs that could give her excitement and whose middle name was 'innovation', so she held her head high and entered the lift.

She stepped to the back of the lift, and soon the entire car filled up on its way up to the top floor. Hermione frowned slightly, as she had meant to get on the car that was going down, but she had time to kill, since she wasn't currently employed, so she could ride a lift up and down for a few moments.

A few people entered, and a few more exited, and after the third stop, the president of the company, a young, good looking, blonde bloke by the name of Draco Malfoy entered the car. Hermione grinned when she saw him. He was better looking than she remembered, and a bit taller. She bent her head and looked at her new red shoes, so he wouldn't notice her. He was talking amicably, but animatedly, with another fellow, and all conversation among their fellow lift riders ceased as Draco shouted, "Why can't I find someone, anyone, who can do this job? Fire the stupid bint and hire me another person, now!" He took a step back as some more people entered the elevator, and he promptly stepped on Hermione's toe.

She winced in pain, and he turned around as much as he could in the crowded lift, and without really looking at her face, he reached out, grabbed her wrist, which surprised her, and looked down at her foot. "I'm sorry, Miss." His hand stayed on her wrist as his gaze scanned her well-toned leg, the hint of knee behind the tight grey skirt, her 'not too wide' hips, her small waist, and her…okay, really nice breasts. He smiled and looked for the first time in her eyes and his mouth opened in shock. He still had her wrist in his hand, and he said, "Granger? Hermione Granger?"

She looked at his hand, and he dropped her wrist. He frowned slightly, said, "I'm sorry," again and turned back to Pucey and said, "Where was I, oh yes, fire that witch and hire someone who at least has two brain cells between their ears."

Hermione wasn't sure what job he needed filled, but she wondered if she would fit the bill. The other man said, "You've fired four people so far, Malfoy. You said the first fellow was too greasy, you said the second man was too pompous, as you would know, (that made Hermione grin) you said the third applicant bit her nails, and the fourth witch is the one you want me to fire now, and why is that? Is she too short? Does her breath smell? Does she have acne? Are her eyes too close together? On what grounds should I fire this one?"

Hermione noticed that the person talking to Draco was Adrian Pucey. She thought, 'Well, Mr. Pucey, you said I was over qualified, but I don't smell, I'm not greasy, I don't bite my nails, and my face is crystal clear, and I have a lot more than two brain cells.' Before Draco could answer the man's question, Hermione let out a little giggle at the thoughts swirling around her head. The old Hermione wouldn't have thought these things, but the new one did, and the new one thought she was hilarious.

Adrian and Draco both turned toward her.

The lift stopped at the top floor. The only people left on the lift were Adrian, Draco and Hermione. Adrian turned back around and started out of the lift. Draco stayed on the elevator and turned back around, only to grab Pucey's sleeve. He pulled the man back on the lift, the doors closed, and Draco stopped it from moving with his wand.

He looked at Hermione and gave her a grin. She grinned back. He smirked. She looked away. He said, "Hermione Granger, how the hell have you been?"

"I've been adequate," she said with a half smile. "Although I think I might have recently broken my toe."

"That's a shame," he said. "What happened, did someone step on it?"

"Yes, and these are new shoes, too," she said back, wiggling her foot back and forth.

He thought she was charming, and he wondered why. She had never been particularly charming before. He looked at said shoes, red high heels, (they were really quite nice) and he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm riding the lifts," she said plainly.

"And do you often come to my company to ride my lifts?" he asked. Adrian looked bored.

"No, this is my first time," she said. She was still smiling. He hadn't given Hermione Granger a thought in such a long, long time. Damn, was she always this pretty and engaging?

"Tell me why you're really here, Granger," he asked, leaning against the back wall. "Because I'm sure it wasn't to have me step on your foot."

"Should I leave you two alone?" Adrian asked, "Because unlike some people, I have important things to do."

Draco cocked his head toward Adrian and said to Hermione, "I think he's implying that you and I don't have important things to do. Now that's not true, is it Granger?" He looked at Adrian and said, "That's not true, Pucey. Apologize at once." Draco smiled and turned back to Hermione. He said, "Shall I horsewhip him. I am the president of the company, and its well within my rights."

She couldn't help but laugh. She felt nervous suddenly, because his smile was so alluring and he actually seemed to be, dared she think it, flirting with her. She said, "Actually, he's right. I don't have a thing to do. I quit my job and I'm currently unemployed."

He said, "Ah, that's not good. Who will pay your bills? Your husband? Or perhaps your boyfriend?" He knew asking such a thing was not a subtle way to find out if she was single, but he was never one for subtlety.

She blushed, she was sure, and she looked down and said, "You could pay my bills." She couldn't believe she said that, but hell, she was the new Hermione, and she didn't know what was about to come out of her mouth these days. The twinkle in his eyes denoted that he was having trouble believing such a statement from her as well, but she was quick to amend, "I came here for a job interview, but was told by Mr. Pucey that I was overqualified."

Draco took the file that Adrian was holding and hit the other man on the head with it and then handed it back to him. "Hermione Granger has never been so insulted in all her days. Tell him, Hermione Granger. Tell him that you're insulted."

She laughed again, and Adrian frowned. Draco said, "Hire her for the job of director of development. Hire her right now." He flicked his wand, the lift doors opened; Draco turned around and said to Hermione, "I'll see you Monday morning, bright and early."

She stared at his retreating figure for a moment, her mouth open, and Adrian turned to her and said, "Merlin's sakes, Miss Granger, do you know what you've gotten yourself into? He's a royal pain to work for, and he's been dissatisfied with the last five people I've hired for this job. You are certainly qualified for it, but I don't think I could do that to you."

As the lift started back down, Hermione said, "What does the job entail?"

"Bringing new developments, new ideals, to the company, finding new resources and investments. A bit of PR work. The job title is Director of Marketing and Development, and I guess you start Monday, but please don't hex me if you end up wanting to hex him." He gave her a small smile, shook her hand, and added, "Be here Monday morning. Report to my office at 8:00 am"

She did as requested, and on Monday morning, she reported to her new job. She went through the first two days and still didn't really know what her job was. She mostly toiled around in her office, found out that her assistant was married with two kids, that she had a staff of five under her, and she learned how to make coffee. On the third day, she was called to a meeting in Draco's office. Her assistant, her assistant director, and her all walked into the meeting just as Draco was yelling and screaming that no one understood what he wanted.

Hermione quickly sat down in the chair furthest from him, when he snapped his fingers, without even looking at her, and pointed to a chair next to him. She stayed where she was. She wasn't a dog, after all. Perhaps he wasn't even indicating that she should sit there. Maybe he just had a nervous tick, or dare she think, Tourette syndrome.

She opened her folder, took out a legal pad, clicked her Muggle pen once, and looked up as all eyes were on her. Everyone looked shocked that she hadn't moved when 'snapped at'. She took a deep breath and when Draco said, "Miss Granger, would you mind sitting next to me," she heard actual 'gasps' from others in the room. Apparently, they were all used to being 'snapped at' and a cordial request, such as the one he just issued to her, was a rarity and a remarkable sight.

She smiled sweetly and stood up from the chair she had sat, and moved to the one next to him. He didn't talk to her for the rest of the meeting, so she wasn't sure why she had to sit next to him. To be truthful, she didn't contribute much to the meeting either, although she took extensive notes. She wrote down almost everything anyone said. She made comments on the sides of the paper about some of them, crossed out some others, and underlined a few she liked.

At the end of the meeting, Draco leaned back in his chair, put one hand to his brow to rub it in frustration, and said, "You're all useless. Get out." Hermione put her legal pad in her folder and folded it up tight. She started to move her chair away from the table when he slammed a hand down on top of the folder. She looked up at him shocked. He said, "You stay."

She wanted to tell him to say please, but since he really was her boss now, she assumed it wasn't such an unnatural request. She did cock an eyebrow when he took her folder, opened it, and began to read everything she had written.

She waited while he read, nervous, because she knew somewhere on one of the pages she wrote, "_Malfoy is going to die of a heart attack by age thirty, if he doesn't calm down, and if he does undeniably, have a heart_." She could only hope that her little ramblings would be lost on the many pages of notes, or perhaps he would have trouble reading her writing, although she had excellent penmanship.

She swallowed hard and leaned back in her chair. She moved the chair back in toward the table, and her knee accidentally touched his. He looked up briefly from his reading. She moved her knee away quickly. He resumed his reading. She put her hand on the table and traced the faux wood pattern with her index finger. The next thing he did stunned her even more. He placed his left hand over her right one, to keep it still, without even looking up from her notes. She thought he would remove it as quickly as he placed it there, but to her surprise, he left it there while he read.

She felt a blush crawl up her skin from her neck to her hairline. She felt warm and flushed. She looked at his hand as it rested on hers. She thought about removing her hand out from under his, and as if sensing her thoughts, (or perhaps because she tried to move it an infinitesimally small amount) he pushed her hand down harder with his, and then to her mortification and abash, he clasped it in his.

So there they sat, holding hands, as he turned the pages of her legal pad with his free hand. He frowned, he chuckled, and he snorted a couple of times. Once he said, "That was a stupid point, wasn't it?" And another time he stated, "I'm not likely to have a heart attack until at least 45." When he was done reading, he gave her hand a squeeze, and she didn't know what that meant. He released her hand and she quickly put it on her lap.

He looked at her and he said, "What shall I do, Granger? I have a bunch of idiots working for me. I want something new and exciting. I'm tired of the same old projects and the same old ideals. Enlighten me with your thoughts."

She reached for her folder, but he pulled it back and placed it on the other side of him. She said, "You just read my thoughts. I agree with you. If you want your company to go in a new direction, and you're tired of the same old, same old, then you need some fresh ideas and you need innovation, since it is your middle name," she added sarcastically, "but Malfoy, you won't even let your staff speak without fear of admonishment. The ones that do have the courage to speak tell you what they think you want to hear, or they simply agree with you. Those who might have a clue, are either afraid to speak, or are shot down before they can. I thought that one bloke, Huntington, had a good idea, but you told him to shut up and go suck his thumb in the corner."

Draco smiled and chuckled. He wasn't used to people standing up to him. That was why he hired her. He knew that she would never back down from a fight, that she would set him to rights and that no matter what, she would always tell him the truth, even if he didn't want to hear it.

"How do you know these things, Granger?" he asked.

"Because I recently took stock of my own life. I was tired of the same old, same old, too, and most of all I was bored. I went about changing the things I didn't like, so I think I'm a bit of an expert on these types of things now," she admitted.

He leaned forward and for some reason, she leaned forward as well, as if they were about to share a secret. Perhaps they were. "Tell me something else, Granger," he said in hushed tones.

"What?" she asked, almost breathlessly.

He almost asked, "Tell me where you've been all my life," but decided that sounded like a bad pick up line, so he said, "Tell me what you really think."

Then she smiled. Then he knew. He might just have found the perfect person for not only the job, but for him, too. To think, if she hadn't been on the lifts that day, and if he hadn't stepped on her toe, he may not have found her. He scooted his chair out and said, "Walk with me, Granger."

They both walked out of the conference room and he said, "I have plans to visit a resort this weekend that I'm thinking of buying. Come with me."

She stopped walking. He turned to face her and she was so somber and solemn that he wondered what he had said wrong. He closed the space between them and said, "What's wrong?"

"What do you take me for, Malfoy?" she asked. "I'm your employee, and that means that I work for you and nothing more. I might have recently taken stock of my life, and I might have changed my hair and my car, and my job, but my value system is the same." She didn't sound angry as she said these things. Rather, he thought she almost sounded hurt, and he was slightly, ever so slightly, alarmed that he had caused her distress, and he wasn't sure why. He had never given other people's feelings consideration before. Why now?

He was quiet for a moment and then he laughed, loud, long and hard, and she looked around to make sure no one heard, but almost everyone had already gone for the day.

He _had_ meant it the way she thought, but he quickly had to turn things around. "Oh, Granger, you are a funny, funny woman!" He bent at his waist and laughed more. She actually stomped her foot, which made him laugh harder. "I wasn't propositioning you! I merely wanted you to check out the investment with me. Oh, if for no other reason, I'm glad I hired you for a good laugh." There…that should cover his temporary insanity, and appease her hurt feelings.

She bit her lip and looked at the ground, beyond embarrassed. He said, "So, this weekend, are you free for a work related trip?"

"This weekend?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Well, that's what I said, so that's what I meant," he said flatly.

"I kind of have a thing this weekend," she explained.

"A thing?" he asked, raising both brows. "Explain to me what 'a thing' is, Granger."

"I'm going away. A three day weekend, which reminds me, I know I just started, but I need Monday off work," she said.

He stared at her with his usual aplomb and said, "Excuse me?"

"I should have told you before, but I thought you wouldn't give me the job if I had, but I need Monday off work," she said.

"Tell me why, first," he said.

She couldn't. She just couldn't. How could she tell him that she was meeting a man that she had never even met? How could she tell him that she was meeting a man to go on a blind date that was arranged by Ginny Weasley? How could she tell him that the man was meeting her at a seaside resort for dinner, and the only way she was even going to recognize him was by a white rose in his jacket's buttonhole? After the blind date on Friday night, she had made arrangements to spend the rest of the weekend by herself, because Sunday was her 30th birthday, and she was bound and determined to do something fun, exciting, and out of character for her one and only thirtieth birthday?

How could she tell Draco that along with her new leaf, new job, and new attitude, she was also planning to do something as unpredictable, and "Un-Hermionish" as all of that?

Therefore, she lied. Lying was new to her, too. She said, "I'm in a wedding."

"Oh," he said back. He stared at her for a moment, and then he decided that he didn't believe her. He said, "Where is this wedding?"

She didn't really have to lie about the place she decided, so she said, "Serpent Cove. It's an oceanfront resort."

He almost laughed again. Well, this was too perfect. That was where he was planning to go, too. He let a small smile escape his lips and then he said, "Well, have fun this weekend. Tell you what, why don't you take Friday off, too. You can get an early start. I'll see you Tuesday." He reached over and patted her arm. He only meant for it to be a small pat, but he left his hand there for a moment. Her skin was so warm. He felt so cold, sometimes. He gave her a small smile and said, "Have fun this weekend." He knew he was planning to have fun. He would run into her at this wedding, and who knew what might happen?

He turned around and walked toward his office. She stayed frozen on the spot, and wondered what had just occurred? She looked at her arm, where his hand had just been, and she realized that she found Draco Malfoy slightly appealing, and gee, that was something new for Hermione Granger, too.

_*Thanks to grumpy grizzly for the title of this fic!_


	2. Chapter 2 Lies

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 2 – Lies**:

Hermione went home that night and tried not to think about Draco Malfoy, which only made her think about him more. She was certain that he was flirting with her tonight, or in the very least he was 'coming on' to her, and what was with the hand holding?

He was her boss, for goodness sakes! That could be construed as sexual harassment…even if it did feel somewhat nice to think that he might like her.

Oh goodness, he didn't like her! What was she, a child? Did people on the verge of 30 years old like each other? Not likely.

She packed for her weekend trip. She was now granted a whole extra day off from work by her new boss, so she had decided to leave directly from work on Thursday. She called the resort and asked them if she could up her reservation by one day, and they said that was doable.

After she packed, showered, and got ready for bed, she decided to call Ginny.

"How did your first three days of work go?" Ginny asked.

"It was odd, and to tell you the truth, I still don't really know what I do," she said. Ginny laughed. "I called to confirm some things about my blind date."

"Oh, Hermione, can't you just relax?" Ginny asked.

"They are just standard questions!"

"Which you've probably already asked me, but go on," her friend said.

"Okay, now, you say that on Friday evening he'll meet me in the lobby at seven o'clock, right?" Hermione heard Ginny yawn. She took that to be a yes. "And you say that he'll have on a white rose, and that I'm to have a white rose in my hair, right?" she tried to confirm.

"You already know all of this!" Ginny wailed.

"Fine, just tell me, does he have a job?" Hermione expressed.

"I told you he does, although why he has to be employed for you to have a blind date with him is beyond me. It's not like you're marrying him, but still, I know you wouldn't want to date anyone unemployed. What do you take me for, an idiot? Would I fix you up with a loser?" she asked.

"How well do you know him?" Hermione asked.

Hermione heard Ginny sigh but then she said, "I don't know him, alright? Don't be angry. I know some things about him, but I've never met him."

Hermione was so outraged that she had yet to speak. Ginny hastened to add, "But my good mate from work knows him really well, and when she told me all about him, I knew he'd be perfect for you. He's intelligent, hardworking, good-looking, and he's never been married."

"What's wrong with him?" Hermione asked.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked through the phone.

"How old is this phantom man whom you lied about knowing?" Hermione prodded.

"I was told he's your age!" Ginny clipped.

"Then why isn't he married, or at the very least, with a woman?" Hermione barked into the phone.

"Why aren't you married, or at the very least with a man?" Ginny countered.

Hermione almost hung up the phone, but instead, she saw that Ginny had a point.

"Do you at least know his name?" Hermione finally asked.

Ginny sighed, for the second time and said, "Can't you just go with the flow, and be excited about the mystic of having a date with a mystery man?"

"No," she answered truthfully. "Please tell me."

"His name is Evan. That's all I know. My work mate never told me his last name, but she talks about him all the time, because they grew up together, and it's always 'Evan this,' and 'Evan that' with her. Please, just try to have fun. The new Hermione would try to have fun. Perhaps she should have the blind date, and not you."

"Very funny, Ginevra!" Hermione hung up her phone.

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Finishing up some last minute details in her office, though she didn't know if they were important to her new job or not, Hermione was on her knees, behind her desk, reaching underneath for a Muggle pen that she had dropped when she heard a voice say, "Hey, Granger are you here?"

She popped her head up. "You scared me!" She placed her hand on her chest.

"I've heard that from many people," Draco said back with a smile from the doorway.

For some reason, she stayed on her knees. Draco Malfoy sauntered into the room, a smug smile on his face and he said, "I know you worship me, but seriously, you don't have to grovel on your knees in front of me. I except money, as well as groveling." He held out his hand.

She placed her hand in his, surprising them both, and she said, "Help me up."

"Is that a command?" he asked.

She looked up at him and said, "It's a request."

"Then what's the two magic words?" he asked. He was still holding her hand. She looked at their clasped hands and thought it was odd that in the space of two days he had held her hand. This time though, she had offered it to him willingly.

She asked, "Is one of them please?" That was the only one she could think of, so she looked at him confused.

"Think harder," he said. He sat on the corner of her desk, still holding her hand.

She frowned and asked, "Hurry up? Are those the two magic words? Because my knees hurt." In addition, she felt rather odd, and thought she was in a precarious position, and it would be a hard position to explain if a fellow employee walked by.

He said, "They are, 'Please Master'."

She pulled her hand from his, used the chair for purpose, and hoisted herself up. She threw the pen on the desk and pushed her chair in. She started to put papers in her briefcase, and noticed that he was sitting on one of her folders.

"I need to take that folder with me," she said. She pointed at the folder under his rump.

He moved slightly to the side, and she pulled it out from under him quickly. She blushed as she pushed it into her briefcase. She turned to him and said, "Why are you here?" She sounded annoyed.

He shook his head and said, "Must I remind you daily that I'm the boss, and I deserve respect?"

"Apparently so," she said seriously.

However, that statement made him laugh. She was being disagreeable, just as he had remembered her being, and he liked that. Too many people here were sickening sweet to him, and others were borderline terrorized. She was neither, and he wouldn't tell her this, because it would give her an advantage over him, but he liked it when she was surly and brisk. He liked it when she said smart remarks to him. It reminded him that he was just a normal bloke, like everyone else. It reminded him not to take himself too seriously.

He popped off the desk and while she was placing one more file in her briefcase, she was extremely conscious of the fact that he was standing right behind her. She felt slightly off kilter having him so close, and she wasn't sure why. He walked around her and sat on the other side of her desk! She felt even more confused. What did he want?

"Thank you for giving me tomorrow off work," she suddenly said, just to have something to say.

He looked at the carpet. He felt slightly distracted by her, and suddenly uncomfortable, so he pushed himself off her desk again and said, "Anytime." He walked around her desk as she got her purse out of the bottom drawer. He asked, "Are you ready for your four-day weekend?"

When she started to answer, she noticed that he was sitting back on her desk, on the same side as he was on originally. She didn't know what to make of his actions, except that he was acting almost as if he was a caged animal, and she was about to be his meal! He crossed his legs at the ankles, and folded his arms tightly in front of him.

Instead of answering him, she said, "Wouldn't it be nice if all work weeks only consisted of four days of work, to be followed by a four-day weekend?"

He regarded that statement only briefly and said, "That's eight days, and a week only has seven days. Please tell me that I didn't hire an imbecile."

She was about to say something scathing to him, but instead she said, through clenched teeth, (which he found rather amusing) "I have to remember that you're the boss, so I can't call you a name back, can I?"

"Oh, go on, I dare you," he said, challenging her, although he looked serious. "If you can't think of a proper name to call me, at least say something scathing back to me."

"Very well, I would have said that I'm surprise that you can count as high as eight, but that wouldn't have been very nice of me, would it have been?" she asked. "However, mummy must be so proud that you can count that high, and you don't even need to take off your shoes and socks."

He wanted to laugh, but instead he cleared his throat and said, "Must I remind you that I'm the boss, and that you should show me respect?"

She looked indignant for a moment and said, "Must I remind you that you told me to go at it, and also, you called me an imbecile, and I don't think that a boss is allowed to do that." She pointed her finger right at his chest. He looked down at her finger, and then back at her face, with one eyebrow raised in a challenge.

What he was challenging, she would never know, but she withdrew her finger quickly.

"Look at the employement contract you signed. I can call you all sorts of names," he joked. She looked down and began to fiddle with one of the fasteners of her briefcase. She couldn't get it to close. He stood up, again behind her, again throwing her off balance just by his nearness, which _again_ confused her because dammit, he didn't like her, and she didn't like him, in fact, she sort of found him annoying. He reached around her with his right hand, and closed the fastener.

She turned to say thank you, but he was altogether too close, and she forgot how to speak. She turned back toward the desk, which was a stupid thing to do, because he was even closer now, if that was possible. She felt his breath on her neck. The room was oddly quiet, sans for their breathing, which was synchronized and harmonized. He looked at the side of her neck, though her hair covered most of, and saw that it was taut and strained, and he could tell that she was unnerved by his nearness.

Well, good for her, because for some reason he was unnerved, too, and he didn't like it any better than she appeared to, because he surely didn't really like her. He might desire her, sure, because she was a beautiful woman, and he was a beautiful man. He looked down her back, and his right hand came up from the briefcase and stroked her arm and he saw her go rigid. He didn't even know what possessed him to touch her like that. Could it be temporary insanity? If she sued him in court, that's what he would claim.

His fingers went lightly down her arm, which was covered by a lilac jumper, of the softest material he had ever felt. His eyes went down her back, to her bum, to her legs. She had dark black pumps on, and a dark grey pencil skirt and he swallowed down the knot that was suddenly in his throat.

What to do, what to do. He could stay here, and continue to feel her arm, which would be idiotic, but then again, she wasn't exactly doing anything about it either. The sound of her breath quickened, and mingled with her quicker pulse, and he swore it matched his own. She started to turn around again, but he said, "Don't move."

"Malfoy," she tried to warn.

"Really, don't move," he whispered. The button on his French cuff snagged on her sweater, near her shoulder. He said, "I'm stuck."

She turned her head slightly, not knowing what he meant, but then she noticed that his gaze was to her shoulder, so she looked at her shoulder quickly. He wasn't kidding. He _was_ stuck.

"It's a new jumper, Malfoy, so please, don't make a hole."

"Making a hole was not my intention," he snapped back.

She wondered why he sounded angry. She turned her head away from him and frowned. "What was your intention?" she blurted out.

He didn't want to answer that, because he hardly knew his intention. He did know one thing: if he wasn't so damn close, and feeling her arm, this wouldn't have happened. "There's only one way to solve this problem. Take your shirt off." Then he laughed, because he felt they both needed some levity about now.

She turned back around and said, "You take your shirt off!"

"Must I remind you…" he started.

"You're the boss, blah!" she finished. She said, "Use magic, oh master."

He laughed at her again, and he took out his wand and the small piece of yarn, which was attached to his button, unraveled, however it did make a small snag. Her hand went to her shoulder, and she said in disappointment, "I liked this, too."

"I'll get you a new one," he said matter of fact.

"Forget it. Listen, I have to go." She moved around the other side of the desk, picked up her purse and briefcase, and started toward the door. She placed her things on the chair by her door as she slipped her jacket on, and he was busy enjoying the scenery, which was Hermione Granger herself, when she turned back to him and added, "I'll see you Tuesday."

He walked around to the front of the desk and said, "Tuesday, right. So, who did you say was getting married?"

"What?" she asked. She had forgotten that she told him that lie about going to a wedding this weekend.

To an inexperience liar, her little 'what?' wouldn't have meant a thing, but to a liar of Draco Malfoy's caliber, it was very telling. He walked closer to her and reminded her, "You said you were going to a wedding this weekend."

"Oh," she said, sounding surprised. She tried to cover it with a laugh and she added, "Of course, well, it's my cousin's wedding."

Draco thought she was digging her own grave, because she really was a terrible liar. "Aren't you Muggle born?"

"Draco Malfoy, you spent seven years of my life making sure I was always reminded that I was a Muggle born, so you know the answer to that," she scolded.

He thought, 'Well, ouch,' but he said, "What I meant was, isn't Serpent Cove a magical resort?"

OH NO! She didn't know how to cover this blunder. She licked her dry lips, which caused him not only amusement, but also a slight twinge of something slightly more wicked, and she said, "She's marrying a Wizard."

"Right," he said slowly, drawling out the word. He thought she seemed more confused than ever, and her confused countenance caused him to take pity on her. He said, "Well, have fun." He knew he was going to have a blast. He now knew two things…she wasn't really going to a wedding, and he was going to have fun surprising her this weekend. The only thing he didn't know, and the thing that made him more curious by the second, was why did she have to lie about going to a wedding? What were her real plans for the weekend, and why did she have to lie about things? It seemed there was more to this "New Hermione Granger" than he originally thought.

He leaned out the door of her office as she practically ran down the corridor. He smiled and decided that he had better go home and pack for his four-day weekend.


	3. Chapter 3 Truth

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 3: Truth:**

Thursday evening Hermione spent hours doing nothing but walk around the massive resort. It was a beautiful place. She didn't know where Draco Malfoy was staying this weekend, or what hotel he was thinking of buying as an investment, but she would have to tell him that she thought this place would be the perfect place for him to invest his money. Not that it mattered if she approved or not, but since she worked for him now, she would merely say that she found that it would be a sound investment.

The next day she woke up very late, a bit after noon, and she went to the beach to spend the rest of the day. She was nervous about tonight and wanted to try to relax before her date, so she spread out a blanket on the sand, took off her sandals, put her legs out in front of her and she tilted her head to the sky. She smiled as she felt the warm sun on her face. She leaned back on her arms; her face still pointed to the sky, and sighed a sigh of satisfaction. The new Hermione Granger was going to relax and have a bloody fabulous time here. She should have brought a bathing suit, and then she could have properly sunbathed. She would have to buy one at one of the shops.

She was suddenly aware that a shadow was cast over her body. She figured a cloud must have been blocking the sun. She would patiently wait for it to move. She leaned back again, and finally lay down completely. Eyes still closed, she waited, and waited, and waited, for the sun to return to her face. Finally, she opened her eyes.

A smiling, stupid, Draco Malfoy was blocking the sun!

She glared up at him, and said, "Get out of my sun, Malfoy."

"Oh, am I in your sun? I didn't know the sun belonged to you these days," he said.

She sat up and leaned back to look at him, her weight on one arm. He sat beside her. She said, "Why are you here?"

"I told you I was coming to a resort to check on making it an investment."

"You never said it was this resort," she rebounded.

"Oh didn't I? It must have slipped my mind," he said. He reached over for some sand, and let it fall through his fingers. Hermione stared at him. He had on lightweight twill trousers, a short sleeve white shirt, and sandals. She had never seen him look so carefree and casual.

No sooner had she had that thought when another one crossed her mind. He was staying at this resort, which meant he would find out that she wasn't in a wedding, and worst of all, he might find out that she had a blind date. She would never hear the end of it.

She would just have to avoid him all weekend. It was a large resort. She tilted her head back to the sun and said, "Leave my blanket." She knew she sounded rude, but in reality, she was a bit blustered and she didn't know what else to say.

Instead of listening to her, as if he ever would, he stretched out his long legs beside her. He tilted his head back, mimicking her body. She opened her eyes and looked over at him.

"You're going to get sunburn, you know," she chastised.

"No, I don't think I will."

"You're so pale. Almost like death warmed over," she said with a laugh. He opened one eye, squinted at her and his mouth formed a tight line.

"Death warmed over," he repeated. "I see that the humidity does wonders for your hair." He laughed.

She couldn't help but smile a bit. Her hair was curler, and she didn't care. She feigned a pout and said, "Maybe the new Hermione should cut it all off, like a pixie cut."

"Don't you dare." He turned to her suddenly.

She seemed stunned that he would act so outraged by her statement, and said, "I'll do whatever I want with my hair, Malfoy."

"Read your employment contract. You can't have short hair. Section three, paragraph four, and line sixty-two."

She laughed and said, "You're making this entire thing up, but when I get back, I'll read this employment contract you keep mentioning."

They were quiet for a while. Hermione sat up and looked out toward the sea. He remained beside her. She placed her right hand on the blanket at the same moment that he placed his left hand beside it. Their fingers touched. She didn't want to be the first to pull away, and apparently neither did he. His little finger started moving back and forth on hers. She turned to look at him. He was smiling, but still staring out at the sea.

Finally, he asked, "When's the wedding."

"Before you go any further, I'm going to be truthful to you." She took his hand, since it was so close to hers. He looked down at their hands, back to her face, and smiled so she would continue. She had a fleeting moment when she really was going to tell him the truth, but she had a sinking suspicion that he had already guessed the truth, which made her angry.

She said, "Here's the truth: you're a complete and utter prat. It pains me to say as much, but someone needs to tell you." She let go of his hand, stood up, pulled on her blanket, which caused him to roll over and off it, shook the sand off, (and right on him) tucked it under her arm, grabbed her sandals and walked away. He watched her hips swing back and forth as she strolled away.

He called out, "Does that mean the wedding's tonight or tomorrow?" She turned, gave him a rude hand gesture, and continued to walk away. If he could have seen her face, he would have seen that she was smiling.

If she had turned around, she would have seen that so was he.

She decided to walk along the boardwalk, and visit some of the boutiques. Perhaps she could find something to wear tonight. She had already brought a new dress with her, but she was vacillating between wearing her new dress and getting a different one.

She walked into the first dress shop she saw, and as soon as she entered she heard the bell above the door ring again, and in walked Malfoy. Hermione almost grimaced. If she could see her own face, she was sure that would describe her expression exactly. She smiled at the woman behind the counter, who hadn't even bothered to greet her. Instead, the woman was wasting all of her smiles on Draco. Hermione rolled her eyes and went to the nearest dress rack.

"May I help you, Sir?" the woman asked.

"Just looking, thank you," Draco said back.

Hermione cleared her throat and said, "You may help me. Do you have this in the next size up?" She held up a silver dress, with an empire waist, and little white roses on the bodice. She thought that since she had to wear a white rose in her hair, it might look nice.

The woman turned slightly to Hermione and said, "We don't have your size."

Hermione now glowered at the woman, (again, she had no mirror, but she knew that she was glowering) and Hermione said, "I didn't ask that. I asked if you had the next size bigger."

The woman turned back and said, "No."

"You don't even know what size I'm holding up," Hermione complained.

The woman turned back to Draco and said, "Are you looking for your wife, Sir, or perhaps something for your girlfriend?" She sidled close to him and placed her hand on his arm.

Hermione sighed loudly this time and placed the dress back on the rack. Draco walked away from the woman's arm and said, "I was actually only in here because my wife dragged me in with her, but since you apparently aren't in the mood to help her, we'll go somewhere else."

Hermione looked up at him expectantly. She wondered what he was up to, and she was also curious as to what the woman would say in response. He walked over to her, winked and said, "Come on, sweetheart, let's go somewhere where the Malfoy name means something."

He put his arm around Hermione. She was surprised and didn't know what to do or say, however, as soon as the woman heard the name, 'Malfoy' she said, "I apologize, Mr. Malfoy. Let me go see if I have that size for you, Mrs. Malfoy."

The woman left the showroom and Hermione laughed. Draco leaned against the counter, looked at his nails, and said, "See, I'm good for something."

"She'll know we aren't married if I buy it and she sees the name Granger on my card," Hermione reasoned.

Draco waved his hand and without looking up at her he said, "I'll buy it for you, to replace your pretty jumper."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, and when she didn't say anything, he looked up at her again. "What?" he asked.

"You can't buy me an expensive dress," she reasoned. "You're my boss, and it wouldn't be seemly."

"Seemly? Only old women say that word. Seemly." Draco walked around her and said, "Besides, look at your employment contract. It states that I can buy you things and it doesn't matter if it's seemly."

"You're a nutter," she said with a laugh. "I really can't wait to read this contract I don't even recall signing, which says that I can't have short hair and you get to call me names, and buy me things."

The woman walked from the back room and said, "Here we are, Madam. Shall I help you try it on?"

"I think I can handle it." Hermione took the dress and went into the dressing room. She had just slipped it on when she saw Draco's feet by the curtain. She really hoped he wouldn't open the curtain. She turned around and said, "Don't come in, Malfoy."

"Why, do you look ugly in the dress?" he asked.

"Ugh," Hermione answered.

"Is that Muggle for yes?" he asked. He looked at the sales woman and said, "My wife is Muggle born and I'm forever misunderstanding her simple little Muggle words."

Hermione reached out from the dressing room and pulled him inside. He was stunned. She said, "Don't tell people things like that."

He didn't hear a word she had just said. He was staring at her. She looked so pretty. On her, the dress looked more lilac than silver, almost as lilac as the jumper she had on yesterday at work. The material shimmered. The dress was short, so it showed a lot of leg. It was tight across the top, and the square neckline showed enough cleavage to be provocative, but not trashy. The empire waist seemed to suit her small frame, too.

He shook the cobwebs from his brain, as she turned to look at herself in the mirror. He made eye contact with her reflection and he said, "You must get that dress. You'll put everyone else at the wedding, including the bride, to shame."

Hermione looked down, disappointed. He didn't know what he had said to upset her, but he reached out for her, thought better of it, and as he lowered his hand he said, "What did I say?"

She turned around to face him and said, "Here's the thing, Malfoy…I really am going to be honest with you this time. I'm not going to a wedding."

"Oh?" He leaned forward in the small dressing room, and placed his right arm between her and the mirror, resting his hand on the wall behind her head. She pressed her back against the side of the dressing room, because he was so close.

"I have a date tonight."

"Oh," he said, leaning back toward the other side, and removing his arm. He felt deflated.

"A blind date."

"Ohhh…" he drew out. He smiled, crossed his arms, and leaned his shoulder against the mirror. Well, this changed things a bit. She didn't really have a real date, then, did she? A blind date wasn't a real date. He wasn't sure why the prospect of her having a date upset him so much, and then the thought that it was only a blind date made him so giddy with joy, but those were his feelings, and he couldn't deny them if he tried.

"Are you going to make fun of me, or tell me that there are no blind dates allowed in my employment contract?" she asked.

He reached toward her and felt the translucent material of the small-capped sleeve of her dress. He said, "You look pretty, and your date is very lucky, and I must buy that for you."

She looked down at herself, then back in the mirror. He leaned away from the mirror again and he looked at her in the mirror. She said, "It's expensive."

"I have lots of money."

"It wouldn't be right."

"Since when did that stop you from doing things?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, that's an assessment about my character, not yours." He smiled at her. She turned to face him.

"I should say no."

"But you want to say yes."

"But I want to say yes," she agreed. However, she wouldn't. New Hermione or not, she wouldn't let him buy her this dress. She smiled at him again and said, "You know what, thank you, but I brought a nice dress for my date, so I'll just wear it." She tried to push him out of the dressing room. Her hands pressed on his chest, and he was amused, because he barely budged.

He said, "Shall I help you with the zipper?"

"I'll get it," she said slowly. He pushed against her hands, she was soon up against the mirror, and he was looming back over her.

"Shall I help you with anything?" he asked steadily.

She looked up at him forever, her hands still on his chest. She felt more than confused. What was this? Why was he acting like this? What did he want? What did she want? She had a date tonight. He was her boss.

"Granger, are you still here with me?" he asked, as he snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"I'm just thinking," she said. She lowered her hands from his chest. He didn't like that. He liked her touching him.

"Don't think too hard. Just live. Isn't that what the new Hermione would do? Wouldn't she live? Wouldn't she accept a pretty dress from an old friend?"

Hermione looked down and said, "You were never my friend, Malfoy."

He looked down, tried to catch her eye, and when she wouldn't look at him, he placed his hand under her chin. He raised it slowly, and she felt as if she was shaking all over with some sort of anticipation, just from his innocent touch.

"I could be your friend now, Granger." He wanted to kiss her. She was probably going to say something like, 'but you're my boss ,' and he would not only _not_ be able to kiss her, but he might find himself without a new employee, because she would probably quit. When she didn't respond he said, "Well, you look nice anyway, so at least buy it for yourself." He rubbed his thumb back and forth on her chin twice, leaned forward, forgot that he had decided not to kiss her, leaned back, and then smiled. "Have a nice date tonight."

He walked out of the dressing room and up to the sales counter. He leaned forward and said, "If my wife decides not to get that dress, then I want to get it for her. Charge it to my room; it's the penthouse, at Serpent Cove Resort. Draco Malfoy. Have it delivered to the room."

"Yes, sir."

Hermione waited until she heard the bell over the door ring, which meant that Malfoy had left, before she walked out of the dressing room. She handed the dress back to the woman and said, "I think I'll pass today, but thank you."

The woman took the dress from Hermione, and after she left, she boxed it up and called a courier to deliver it to Draco's room.

Hermione walked by herself all the way down the boardwalk, and then back again. She had a lot to think about, one of them being Draco Malfoy. He was so different than he was in school, but then again, that was a good thing. He was a bastard in school. She almost wished that she didn't work for him. But if she didn't work for him, she probably would never have met him again.

She went back to the resort and asked the desk clerk to have a white rose delivered to her room by five.

"Just a single rose, Miss?"

"Yes."

"Would you rather us deliver it somewhere for you?" the man asked.

"No, it's for me. It's for my hair, for tonight. I have a blind date, and my date will recognize me by a white rose in my hair, and I'll recognize him by a white rose in his boutonniere."

"How romantic," the man said with a smile. "I'll have it delivered immediately."

Hermione walked up the stairs to her third floor suite. The man asked his fellow desk clerk to be sure to get a white rose to Miss Granger's room by five. Draco Malfoy, who was in a chair facing the lobby, had heard the entire exchanged, and he merely smiled. Then he stopped the man and asked him to have a white rose delivered to the penthouse, too.


	4. Chapter 4 Pre Date

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 4: Pre-Date:**

Relaxing in the bath, Hermione heard someone knocking on the door to her suite. She sat upright, abruptly, and wondered for one millisecond if it was Malfoy at the door. Then she wondered for a half a millisecond why she cared. Surely, she didn't want Malfoy to interrupt her bath. Surely, she didn't want him to show up expected at her door. Except for some reason, she did, and she half-expected it. She heard another knock, stood up from the tub, wrapped herself in a robe and padded to the door.

She opened it slowly, peeked out the crack, and saw one of the bellhops. For a quarter of a millisecond (and no more), she was disappointed that it wasn't Malfoy.

"I have three packages for you, Miss Granger," the pimply face young man said with a smile. He looked her up and down while she turned to retrieve a galleon from her purse, she handed him the tip and he placed all three parcels on the sofa in her sitting room. The boy left and Hermione sat on the couch and examined all three packages.

The first one was expected. It was a clear, long container, with a single white rose. Hermione placed it on the end of the sofa and opened the next box. It was from the dress shop. She already feared (rejoiced?) at what it might be. It was the dress. She shook it from the box and smiled. Okay fine, she'll keep it. There wasn't a note, but she already knew that it was from him.

She went to hang it up in the small bedroom and then went back out to the main room and opened the last box. Inside were a dozen red roses, and a note that read: "_Looking forward to our date_."

Hermione had hoped they were from Malfoy, but then reasoned that she should have known better. Well, that was nice of her blind date. How did he know she was staying at the resort? For all he knew, she could just be meeting him here. She decided not to question things, and just be happy that she got roses. She was a different woman nowadays, and the New Hermione wouldn't question such things. She would just be happy that things were.

She arranged the flowers in a vase that sat on the small round table by the balcony doors. She looked out at the late afternoon sky. She needed to get ready for her date. She went to get dressed.

At 6:45 pm, she decided to go wait for her date outside. They were supposed to meet in the lobby at seven, but she was a bundle of nerves, so she decided to wait for him outside. She knew she was early, but perhaps he would be early, too.

She walked down the long wrap-around porch of the large hotel, which started as a portico around the front, and wrapped around to veranda at the end of the dining room. That end overlooked the beach, and had a wonderful view of the cove and the lagoon. She could see boats out on the sea. She leaned against the railing and took a deep breath of the sea air. She still felt anxious.

That was when she realized that something was terribly wrong. She wasn't anxious to meet her date. She was anxious to see Draco again. She must be crazy. She walked back down toward the front doors. On one of the deck chairs, by the front of the hotel, she saw HIM. He had on a beige coloured suit, an off-white shirt, a cream coloured tie, and she thought he looked dashing.

It was Draco, not her date.

She thought he looked dashing. She would tell him that, but he would probably tell her that she was using an old woman word again, and tell her that her employment contract prohibited her from calling him anything but gorgeous, handsome, beautiful, etc.

She almost approached him, because a small part of her wanted him to see that she had on the dress that he bought, and that she looked nice, and would that be so wrong? She decided that it would. She was supposed to meet her date tonight, and Draco didn't fit in the equation. Besides, he would probably find fault in her somehow. He would say that her hair should be down, that her shoes were ugly, or that the white rose on her chest looked stupid. He would tease her about her blind date, and make a comment about how it was a good thing the man was blind so he wouldn't have to see her.

As she pondered these dark thoughts, she felt a bit ashamed for thinking them. He wasn't the same mean, spiteful, pureblooded bully that he was in school. Did she really expect that sort of action from him now? Hadn't he already shown that he was marginally nicer? He was still a git, but he was no longer a spiteful arse.

She retreated through a side door, which led to the dining room. She didn't want to see him any longer, and she wasn't sure why. He turned from his deck chair just as she turned and slipped inside the door. He only saw her back. He wondered if she had seen him? He hoped not. He was waiting for her date to arrive.

He sat back down just as a tall, thin, pointed nose man with a white rose in the buttonhole of his lapel walked up the main stairs toward the door. Draco sprang into action. He felt inside his jacket pocket for his own white rose. It was still tucked safely inside.

Draco thought to himself, 'Showtime,' and he walked toward the man, feeling slightly sorry for him, but only for a moment. After all, all was fair in 'whatever the hell he felt for Hermione' and war.

Before the man walked through the doors, Draco approached him and said, "Excuse me, but I think you're just the chap I was waiting to see. My name is Draco Malfoy."

The man looked at Draco with an air of indifference and said, "Listen Mister, whatever you're selling, I'm not interested."

He thought Draco was some sort of solicitor! "Well, you're a rude bugger," Draco said aloud, though he meant only to think it. He no longer felt sorry for the man, and he was now glad that he was saving Granger from such an arse-hole. He was performing a public service by dismissing this man. He continued, "I'm not selling anything, at least nothing that you could afford." He pointed to the white rose on the man's jacket and said, "Are you meeting a woman for a blind date tonight."

The man gave Draco a smarmy glare and said, "What's it to you, Mister?"

"Listen you overgrown, lanky, stupid, greasy-haired git," Draco said. "Do you have a date with Hermione Granger tonight or not? Because if you do, I need to tell you that she had to cancel."

"Merlin's sake!" the man responded, ignoring all the names Draco had just called him. "My date is with Hermione Granger?"

"Well not any more, but it was," Draco retorted.

"What happened to her?" he asked.

"She had to work this weekend. Her boss is a prick and made her work straight through the weekend, so she sent me to tell you that she couldn't make it," Draco explained.

The man reached over for Draco's hand, began to pump it up and down, and said, "Oh my, well, too bad, rotten luck and all, I mean for her, but damn lucky for me I guess."

Draco pulled his hand from the man's and asked, "What do you mean?"

"I mean you saved me, old boy," the idiot said. "If I had known that my friend fixed me up with Hermione, the queen of the Mudbloods, the famous Know-it-All, One Third of the Golden Trio, Granger, I never would have agreed to go. My friend must have thought it was right funny to set me up with her. I bet she's having a good old laugh about now. Then again, she might not know this, but I can't stand that woman!"

"WHY?" Draco demanded. He was going to yell at the man for calling her a Mudblood, but hell, he had called her that name most of their lives, so he would let that one pass.

"Why? I went to school with them. The golden trio, that is. They were three years younger than I was; in fact, I think I remember you, too. The thing is that I could never stand any of them. Most of the people in my house thought they were a bunch of self-righteous harpies."

Draco felt like slapping the man upside his head. He said, "For your information, she really canceled the date. She found out the date was with you, she remembered that you were the biggest prick in Ravenclaw, and she cancelled!"

"I was in Hufflepuff!" he stated.

"HA!" Draco laughed and said, "Then that's probably the sole reason she stood you up!" Draco hated this man with a passion. What was wrong with Hermione Granger? She was good enough for Draco to like, so that meant there was nothing wrong with her. He felt utter contempt and loathing for the man. He even took the rose out of the man's buttonhole, threw it on the ground, and smashed it with his foot.

The man turned around and huffed off, as Draco said, "Hufflepuffs are all whores and has-beens!" A man walking into the doors turned to look at Draco, and Draco said, "Well, they are."

Draco turned to walk in the lobby and he found Hermione immediately. She was wringing her hands and staring at a big grandfather clock, which stood in the corner of the massive lobby. The clock read 7:17 pm. She probably thought she was stood up.

Draco walked over to her and she stood up. His frown softened and he smiled as he approached her. "I like your dress," he said.

She looked down at her dress and said, "I think it's nice. Thank you, by the way."

He smiled. She looked back at the clock. He said, "When's your blind date arriving?"

"I think maybe he stood me up," she said. She started to remove the flower from her right breast. He stunned her when he reached up to still her hand.

"Don't," he commanded. "Keep it on. It looks nice." He released her hand, and then he reached in his pocket, pulled out his rose, and placed it in his boutonniere. Her mouth came open in bewilderment. He held out his arm and said, "Shall we?"

She shook her head. "No…you aren't my date."

"I think I am," he protested. "I even sent you roses today. Did you like them?" He would never tell her that her real date didn't want to meet her. It was his intention all along to bully the man into leaving, and to take his place, but now that the truth was that the man didn't want to date her anyway, well, it made Draco feel differently. He wasn't sure what he felt, because he didn't feel sorry for her. It was impossible to feel sorry for someone like her. There was no reason for it. The truth was though; he wanted to spare her feelings, now. Even if the bloke had really stood her up, he would have wanted to spare her feelings. He held out his hand and said, "Shall we go to dinner?"

She backed up against the wall. "Did you know?"

He walked up to her, close as could be, and looked down. "Did I know what?"

"Did you know that your blind date was with me all along, because, I was told mine was with someone named Evan," she explained.

"I knew," he said, which really wasn't a lie. He knew that he had intended to be her date tonight, even if that wasn't the original plan that she knew.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

"Would you have gone?" he asked, seriously.

"You should have told me," she said without answering. "This isn't some joke, or an elaborate plan to make fun of me, is it?"

That statement angered him and he took a step back. "Hermione, is that what you really think of me?" He seemed more hurt and angry.

She felt slightly bad. She looked down. She said, "I'm sorry. This is just a shock." She looked back at him and sat on a small loveseat by the fireplace. He sat beside her.

"A bad shock or a good shock?" he inquired.

"Draco, we can't date, not even one date. I work for you," she said.

He shook his head and said, "I could fire you for the night. Rehire you tomorrow."

She couldn't help but giggle at that statement. "Ginny Weasley is in so much trouble," she finally said. She reached up for her rose again and removed it from her dress. She fiddled with it, moving it from one hand to the other, and then stroking one of the pedals with a finger.

He reached over and covered her hands with one of his. She didn't have the resolve to look up at him. She actually leaned toward his body. He said, "We both have to eat, right?"

She nodded, but kept her eyes downcast. He took one of her hands and put it between both of his. She looked over at their hands. He seemed captivated by her hand. The thumb of his right hand traced the veins on the back of her hand, as it lay in his left hand. Then he closed it tightly in both of his and said, "Let's just go eat. It's just dinner, not a date."

She removed her hand from his. He looked over at her and noticed that she was looking toward the front desk. He turned toward the front desk too, just as one of the desk clerks was pointing toward Hermione. Her blind date stood in front of the desk, and followed the line of the man's hand. He walked over to Hermione and Draco. Draco quickly stood, with Hermione standing a moment later.

He looked at Draco and as he approached the pair he said, "I really do recall you now, Malfoy. You always were a little bastard." He turned to Hermione Granger and said, "Listen, Granger, I'm Evan Baxter. I was your date tonight, and I was about to leave, but I decided to call my friend Marcy first, and ask her why she set me up with a woman like you, who didn't even have the nerve to cancel the date on her own."

Hermione was beyond confused. She turned to Draco. He shrugged his shoulders, to denote that he didn't know what the crazy man was saying, and he leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Let's get away from the mad man, Hermione. Once I buy this place, I'll screen all people to prohibit lunatics from entering." He tried to pull her away but she remained firmly in place.

She shook her arm from Draco's hands and said to the man, "Who are you again?"

The man held up a squished rose, which he must have picked up from the ground, and said, "I was your date! How dare you cancel on me! I called Marcy to give her a piece of my mind, but she assured me that you had changed, and that she knew that you were staying here this weekend! Well, you know what? No one makes a fool out of Evan Baxter!"

Draco leaned toward Hermione again and said, "Except for Evan Baxter, apparently."

Hermione pushed Draco away from her so hard that he landed back on the loveseat.

She said to Evan, "I was stood up by you! Well who cares, no, wait…" She turned to Draco. "You said you were my blind date!" She stomped her foot, as she was apt to do, and she turned back to Evan and said, "You were relieved that I stood up you, aye? Well bully for you! I remember you from school! You were a rotten piece of work back then, and you still are, so go away! You're bothering me!" She reached for Draco's hand and said to him, "Come, Malfoy. I have to eat so I might as well eat with you!"

She marched with him toward the dining room. Once out of sight of the other man, Hermione rounded on him and said, "What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

"Listen, I saw the man out front, I saw his white rose, and I heard you tell the desk clerk that you would know your date from a rose, so I knew he had to be your date. I told him that you canceled."

"Why?"

"Hey listen, Granger," Draco tried to defend, "he was maligning your character before! He said all sorts of things about you to me! He even said you were a Mudblood! He said he couldn't stand you and if he had known the date was with you he never would have shown! Besides, he was in Hufflepuff, for Merlin's sake!"

Draco immediately knew he had said too much.

Hermione backed away and said, "Goodbye." She started toward the lifts. She pushed the button for the third floor just as Draco ran into the lift.

"Listen, Granger!"

"Please…I don't care anymore. I try to change, but still, I guess it's no use." She leaned against the wall.

He leaned along with her and he pulled out his wand and once again stopped a lift, just as he did that day at his office. He said, "Why do you want to change everything so much, Granger?"

She turned her head toward the wall and said, "I don't know."

"Yes you do," he reprimanded. "Tell me."

"Because of people like him." She sat down on the floor, her legs crossed at the ankles. Draco sat down beside her. "Because of people like you."

"Why do you say that?" he asked. He was now the one that looked away.

"Okay, here goes," she said. She turned to face him and she tapped on his shoulder. He looked at her. "If you had seen me again on the street somewhere, not in the lifts at your company, would you have come up and talked to me? Would you have flirted with me?"

He said nothing.

"If we were passing each other in Diagon Alley, would you have held my hand, like you did in the conference room the other day? You know you wouldn't have. You might have said hello to me, sure, but you wouldn't have said much else. That man out there had a preconceived notion about me, and he's not too far off the mark, but just as I'm sure its not easy for you to be Draco Malfoy sometimes, it's not always easy to be Hermione Granger, either."

"Same question to you, Granger," he said. He reached over to the hem of her dress, and played with the material, which she found odd. "If you had seen me at a restaurant a month ago, and I had asked you to have a drink with me, and don't look at me like that, it might have happened, but what would you have done? Would you have laughed at my face? Would you have said, 'thanks, but no thanks,' or would you have made an exception, thrown out your old theories about me, and accepted me for who I am now?"

He was right.

Hermione said, "We'll never know now."

He hurried to stand and he said, "Get up."

"What?"

"Get up!" He held out his hand to help her to stand. She slowly placed her hand in his. He pulled her up. He rubbed his thumb back and forth on top of her hand. They had held hands more times than she could count this week, and each time felt different, but exhilarating. She felt the hair on the back of her neck bristle at the experience of her hand in his. She looked up into his eyes, as if in slow motion. She heard the steady sound of his breathing. His eyes were so intense…silver, or grey, with perhaps a bit of blue. She felt hot. He was so different, and she was pleased. He was still Draco Mafloy, after all. Was she insane?

He wanted nothing more than to pull her to him and kiss her all night. What lunacy was this? He had desired women before, even lusted after them, but this was different and he didn't know why. He wanted to touch her every moment he was with her. He had since he stepped on her foot last Friday in the lifts at his office. As he held onto her hand, he knew that she was different. She was different, but not because she was the 'new Hermione' but because she was different from all the other women that he had ever known.

He let go of her hand and the magic between them was lost, but only for a moment.

He placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed her toward the back of the car. He said, "Pretend you don't know who I am."

"What?" she repeated.

He flicked her forehead with his finger. He said, "Just stand there, is that too much to ask?"

He started the lifts again and when the door opened, he said, "Stay there." He exited the elevators. She stayed there. The doors immediately opened again and he walked on the elevators. He pushed a button and turned to face the wall. She stood there, confused. A split second later, he looked behind his shoulder and he said, "Is that who I think it is? Why, Hermione Granger? You look wonderful. I haven't seen you in years. Imagine us both being in the same hotel at the same time."

She stifled a smile and she said, "I would have recognized you anywhere, Draco Malfoy. How are you?"

"Pretty good, and you?"

"I'm great," she said.

"Excellent. See much of Scarhead these days?"

"Yes. Are you still working for your father?" she asked.

"Heavens no, I have my own business." The doors opened and he said, "I'm going to the dining room, I don't suppose you would like to join me, would you?"

He held the lift doors open. She thought for a moment. She walked up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. In earnest she said, "Let's pretend that just for tonight, that this is who we are now, okay? There's no boss/employee relationship, there's no blind date mix up, or anything. We haven't seen each other in years, okay?"

He leaned forward and felt her forehead. His hand lingered there and he said, "Are you delusional? What is this boss-employee nonsense? What blind date? I just wanted to have dinner with you, Granger, but if you need to see your psychotherapist instead, I understand." He removed his hand slowly, letting his fingers skim down her cheek, to her jaw, to her neck. He let it rest on her shoulder. Now they were both touching the other person's shoulder, and the magic between them was back.

She bit her bottom lip, grinned and said, "I would love to join you for dinner." He pulled her toward him, and was about to kiss her, but once again, he changed his mind. They had all evening for a kiss.

"Excellent." He held out his arm for her. She placed her hand in the crook of his arm, and they walked arm in arm toward the dining room, reminiscing as old friends often do.


	5. Chapter 5 Strangers

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 5: Strangers:**

Hermione didn't know a single soul in the whole dining hall, save for Draco Malfoy, but she felt as if every eye was upon them. Perhaps it was because Draco was a Malfoy, and she had to admit, he was very handsome. Perhaps it was because she felt very pretty tonight. On the other hand, perhaps it was because she wanted to be noticed, and was imagining things that weren't really there. Whatever it was, the facts remained the same…Draco was handsome, Hermione felt pretty, and she had been anticipating this night for weeks. Even if it had turned out differently than she had imagined that it would, it didn't negate the fact that she was finally on her blind date, even if it was with a man she probably would never have dated in a million years.

Not that she wouldn't date Draco if he had really asked her. Before she worked for him, she might have, but now she couldn't. She could never date her boss. People would get the wrong impression, and appearances were important to Hermione. She always felt as if she had things to prove to people. She never wanted people to assume that she got things the easy way. She always thought that she had to work harder, be smarter, and better, than everyone else. She didn't want anyone to think that she relied on being Harry's friend to get by, or now, on being Draco's paramour. She wanted judged totally on her own merit, and she didn't want anyone to get the wrong impression about her.

But for this one night, she could pretend. She could pretend that she wasn't Hermione Granger, Muggle born, and he wasn't Draco Malfoy, pureblood, and he wasn't her boss, and she wasn't his employee. They were just two old acquaintances, catching up on old times, or maybe it was even simpler than that. Perhaps they could be two strangers, out on a blind date. That would be even better.

They were shown to their table, given their menus and the wine list, and Hermione leaned forward and said, "I have an idea."

Draco sat back in his chair, opened his menu, but looked at her from over the top. He said, "Please tell me your idea."

"Let's pretend this is a real blind date."

He closed his eyes, felt out for her with his hand and said, "I can't hear you, I'm blind."

She giggled and hit his hand away. She said, "Blind people can hear, silly. What I mean is, let's pretend that we really don't know anything about each other. Instead of being two old friends, catching up on old times, let's pretend we don't know a thing about each other. We can be whoever we want, and do whatever we'd like."

"I want to have sex on the first date, so with your little plan, since I can do whatever I'd like, I can do that, correct?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"After our date is over, if you want to find someone accommodating, go at it," she said with a laugh.

"You're no fun," he said, frowning. Their waiter came and they ordered drinks and food. Then Malfoy leaned forward and said, "Fine, how do we start this little game of yours?"

"With an introduction," she said. "My name is Heather Gardener. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm glad we decided on the white roses, or I might not have known how to recognized you."

"Heather Gardener?" he repeated and then smirked.

"Stay in character," she harped.

"I am in character. My character is amused that your character has a made up name." He took a drink of water but then cleared his throat, put out his hand and said, "The pleasure is all mine, HEATHER." He took her hand and shook it politely. "My name is Derek Malone. When my friend set us up on this date, I thought you would be an ugly, old thing, but I'm glad you're not."

She glared at him. He leaned forward again and said, "Sorry, but my character is shallow."

"So unlike the real deal," she said softly. He threw a roll at her, which she caught. She said, "What do you do for a living, Dane?"

"Derek."

"Sorry."

"I'm a professional broom racer," he answered.

She choked on her water. "Okay, this isn't going to work. But I do have one request," she stated.

"That I pay for dinner?" he asked.

"No, well yes, but let's really try to get to know each other. Share secrets and things. Things that Draco and Hermione don't know about each other. We can still be us, after all we do it so well, but let's pretend it's still a real blind date. Let's get to know each other. I'll start. I have a birthmark on my right thigh."

"May I see it?" he asked, amused.

"Not likely," she said.

"I have a mole on my left cheek," he said. She looked at his cheek. He shook his head and said, "Other left cheek."

She grinned again and said, "May I see it?'

"Certainly." He stood up and to her mortification, his hands went to his belt.

"Sit down!" she spat. She covered her eyes for a moment. "Maybe later," she added.

Their food arrived and they started to eat when a waiter came up and said, "Is everything alright, Mr. Malfoy? Is the table to your liking? Per your request, when you made the reservations, we saved the best table for you."

"Yes, thank you," Draco said.

Hermione quizzed, "You made this reservation? How did you know all would go well with your plan to get rid of my date?"

"I always get what I want," he said glibly. "Besides, what can I say?"

"What would you have done if I had refused to have dinner with you?" she wondered aloud.

"That was never really an option," he said truthfully. Then he said, "Heather? Really? Heather?"

"I've always wanted to be a Heather," she said again.

"But Heathers should be blond," he surmised.

"That's stupid," she complained. "There are brunettes named Heather."

"I've never dated one, and I've dated a lot of Heathers," he concluded. "You should be a 'Holly'. Holly's have dark hair. Why did you want to pretend to be different people, anyway?"

"You know, it would have been nice, no preconceived notions, we could find out things about each other, real things, not birthmarks and moles, but likes, dreams, hopes and aspirations. We've known each other for eighteen years, yet we don't really know each other," she explained.

The waiter brought their food and wine, and while the man was serving them, Draco thought about what she had said. "You have a point," he said thoughtfully. She did have a point. He knew very little about the real Hermione Granger. "Tell me about you, Hermione."

"Let me ask you something first," she said, suddenly serious. "Why did you go to all of this trouble? Did you really want to date me? I mean why? You've never been interested in me before. You've known me for years, and you've never shown any special attention to me, but then I come to work for you, and suddenly you want to pursue me. Is it all about obtaining the unobtainable? What is that about, anyway? You could have just asked me out, you know, although since we work together now I would have had to say no."

He didn't know how to respond to her questions and accusations. How could he tell her that he found her attractive, and alluring, and to be truthful, he wanted to get her into bed? Sure, he wanted to get to know her better too, but that was secondary. He said, "I might have had some other agendas."

"Other agendas?"

"You know, you're attractive, I'm attractive. We could have a real lark this weekend, maybe even have some mind-blowing sex, and no one ever need know, even if we do work together. We can be discreet. We could even go back to pretending to be different people. As I said, no one will ever know. What do you say?"

He knew telling her the truth was a mistake, the minute it came out of his mouth, because she was suddenly quiet and solemn. She put her fork down and looked down at her plate. "You don't even want to date, do you? I was worried about going out on a date with you, because we work together, but you weren't even talking about dating. All of this was an elaborate plot to get me in bed, wasn't it?" She didn't raise her voice, or even change her expression. It wasn't as if she was accusing him, but stating a fact. That made Draco angry. Not because she was wrong, but because she was right, and he was found out, and he hated that. He also hated it because now that it was out in the open, he wasn't sure that was his only agenda, but how could he tell her that now?

"I'm tired of you saying stupid things like that. The new Hermione Granger says stupid things," he spat. He took a large drink of his wine to cover for his awkwardness at the fact that he felt like a first-class cad.

She sighed and scooted her chair away from the table. "This date is over, because it wasn't even a date. It wasn't about anything real to you, was it. It was a game. I'm a joke to you, right?"

"Not really," he answered flippantly. "You aren't a joke, because you aren't remotely funny. You're excessively serious, all the time, Granger, and frankly, you're a bit dim. Even I didn't recognized things as they were until now. I hardly think I would have gone to all this trouble if I just wanted a bedmate. I could find someone to have sex with easily. I always have, and probably always will."

She rubbed her forehead with both hands. She stood up and said, "This is going nowhere fast. We can't date, and we apparently can't even have a nice evening together as old friends, because really, Draco, we were never friends." She took the rose out of her hair, placed it on the table, and walked out toward the veranda.

She leaned against the railing and looked out toward the beach below. The evening was warm and the breeze balmy, but still, she placed her hands around herself, not to ward off the cold, but to ward off her never-ending loneliness. She finally placed her hands on the railing and that was when she sensed that she was no longer alone.

She knew he was behind her before he even said a word. He stood so close, she felt fuzzy, whatever that meant. He stood directly behind her, placed his left hand on the column that ran from the railing to the awning, and his right hand beside hers on the railing. She felt the warmth of his body next to hers. He placed his mouth near her ear and then he kissed the spot right behind her ear. She closed her eyes and shuddered. He moved his mouth away and she shrugged her shoulder up near her ear. He leaned forward and kissed behind her ear again. She thought he was being incredibly forward, but she wasn't sure she cared. She shook her head. He took his right hand and skimmed it slowly down her arm. Then he placed his hand over hers on the railing. He kissed behind her ear a third time.

Without turning around, she whispered, "Stop it." She shivered again.

"Why, Miss Heather Gardener, whatever do you mean? I can't help it if it's windy out here." He blew on her neck, and then kissed the spot between her neck and her shoulder. She felt like melting. She shivered once more. "Are you cold?" he asked.

"Apparently," she said hoarsely. She turned her head slightly and looked at his 'too near' face. "What are you doing?"

He knew she wasn't referring to the fact that he was being a flirt, and forward, and was kissing her, but he didn't want to think about the implication of her question at the moment. He would rather have her pressed against him, as they were. He moved his left hand down the column, and then down her left arm. He placed the hand that was next to hers on the railing around her waist. She didn't know how to respond. She knew what she wanted to do, but that would be wrong, so she turned her head forward, and stared back out toward the sea.

Here they were employer and employee, strangers really, and yet they were wrapped together like lovers on holiday. His front against her back, she felt safe, warm, and happy. She even felt loved. She felt wanted. She FELT.

He brushed her cheek with his own and said, "Do me a favour. It's going to be the biggest favour anyone has ever asked of you. Don't think. Don't analyze. Don't over indulge your active brain. Have fun. This can be the best damn blind date you've ever had, and that's all it has to be, I promise. I won't press you for anything else." The words were spoken, but he wasn't sure he could hold to them. He wanted it to lead to more, but he also didn't want to spend the weekend alone. "We can do or say or be anyone we want this weekend. No agendas, not from this point on, and no planning or plotting. Let's play it by ear," he suggested, and then to illustrate, he kissed behind her ear again.

She trembled and her hand went to her ear. Without turning around, (if she did, they would be entirely too close) she said, "I'm tired of being alone." He felt her sentiments through ever fiber of his being, and he suddenly realized that he felt as lonely as she felt. She turned slowly, and he backed away just as slowly. She said, "Go back inside, Draco. Our blind date is over."

Well, he tried. He really did. He should have just come outside and apologized. He tried another angle, and it backfired, but he knew when enough was enough. He backed away farther, put his hands up in defeat, and said, "Fine, Hermione. I'll leave you be." He turned and walked back to their table.

She stayed outside for a few more moments, and then she motioned to a waiter and whispered something in his ear. Draco could see her from his chair. He wondered what she was doing. He wondered why he cared.

He started to eat, feeling alone and left out, when he heard a woman clear her throat. He looked up. It was Hermione, and she had a fresh, white rose in her hair. He pushed out his chair, confused, and stood.

She held out her hand and said, "My name is Hermione Granger, and I can tell by the white rose in your lapel that you must be my date. My blind date. I'm sorry I'm late. I was detained by my own stupidity."

He took her hand, and held it gently for a moment and then he said, "I'm Draco Malfoy, and my stupidity has detained me so many times in my life, I couldn't begin to tell you of them all. By the way, I'm happy to meet you."

_(Happy Christmas to everyone!)_


	6. Chapter 6 Make Believe

**all characters belong to JKR, don't you know**

**Chapter 6: Make Believe:**

When Hermione decided to come back into the dining room, she did it for one reason and one reason only: because her first instinct was NOT to come back in the room. Her first instinct was to run up to her room, pack her bag, go home, and quit Malfoy Enterprises first thing Monday morning.

That was why she did the opposite.

She really did want a new life and a new beginning. It wasn't that she was a malcontent. She wasn't unhappy with her prior life, if it could be called that. She merely felt like she was coasting along in life. She felt she was a casual observer, instead of an active participant. She wasn't really living life to its fullest. She wasn't unhappy, but neither was she overjoyed.

She never dated. It wasn't because people didn't ask her to date. They did. She just never felt motivated enough to go to the trouble and bother.

She never went out with friends any longer. Her friends invited her out all the time, but she had convinced herself that she was happier at home, alone.

For such a long time, she felt as if she was a backseat driver in her own life. Boring job, no motivation, no love, no companionship, no happiness. She was tired of merely existing. She wanted to live, at least for this weekend, she wanted to live, and to experience life, and perhaps even experience love.

After all, what was life without living? Even more importantly, what was life without loving?

So she turned around, called a waiter to her, asked him if he could find her a white rose, and once the new rose was firmly in place in her hair, she turned back toward the dining room. She was afraid that Draco might be gone, but he was still there. Perhaps he wasn't waiting for her, but he hadn't left her either. That was a good sign.

She walked toward his table, head held high, white rose in her hair, and a genuine smile on her face. His fork suspended partway to his mouth as she approached.

She introduced herself to him as his blind date.

He introduced himself back to her.

And their blind date began.

Partway into dinner, Draco asked, "What made you want to work at my company, Granger?"

"It wasn't because innovation was your middle name, I'll tell you," she said, pointing her fork toward him and making fun of his employment ad.

"I know that was a stupid ad wasn't it? Your predecessor wrote that lovely piece of poetry. I told the stupid woman to think of a way to generate a buzz about working at our company, you know, get some fresh blood in the ranks, and that was the best she could come up with."

"I have some ideas," she said.

He planted both hands over his ears and said, "I'm on a bloody date, Granger. No time to discuss business."

"Right," she said.

"What's your idea?" he asked.

She smiled. "We could come up with an internship program. Perhaps handpick the candidates from the best of the best at Hogwarts, have them do a three month internship with us, and the ones that really shine, we could give them a scholarship for University, with the stipulation that they work for Malfoy Enterprises for five years after University, and during summer breaks. I also think you should change the name of your company to DM Enterprises, so people don't get your company confused with your father's company."

"You're a genius," he said in awe. "Seriously, though, that's a fab idea."

"I have good ones, once in a while," she said in a self-effacing way.

"Would you like some champagne?" Draco asked as the busboy cleared their table.

"I don't really like champagne."

"WHAT?' he asked shocked.

"Never have, really," she explained.

"Well, that's just wrong," he said. "Anyway, we're celebrating, so champagne is definitely in order."

She raised both brows and asked, "What are we celebrating?"

"Anything we want." He called a waiter over and said, "We would like a bottle, no, a magnum of your best champagne, because we're celebrating."

The waiter asked, "What are you celebrating?"

"Would you like to answer that one, sweetheart?" Draco asked.

She played along. "It's our fifth wedding anniversary," she lied.

"Splendid, and congratulations," the young man said before he left to get the champagne.

"Our fifth, huh?" Draco asked with a smile.

"Should I have said our first?"

"I would have rather you said it was our honeymoon, then I would have had something to look forward to tonight. After five years of marriage, you might feign a headache, and I won't get sex," he joked.

"You're not getting sex with me in either case," she said pointedly.

"Come on, we're on a blind date. We're two different people this weekend. Sex is a given," he said.

"ON A BLIND DATE?" she asked incredulously.

"I don't think I've ever had a date that didn't end in sex," he said, without cracking a smile. He was actually telling the truth.

Hermione waited for the punch line, when none was forthcoming, she said, "There's a first time for everything. Even though I came back to the table, and even though I didn't discourage you out on the veranda earlier, when you kissed my neck, we really do have to remember that we have a professional relationship."

He felt like throwing something at her. If she mentioned that again, he would. He said, "Page ten, paragraph seven, line 23 of your contract states that I can have sex with you anytime I want."

She merely laughed.

"You are in serious breach of contract," he countered.

"Sue me."

"I might."

The waiter brought their magnum of champagne. Hermione looked at the size of it and said, "I hope you like this stuff, because I'm not having any, and there's a lot there."

Draco told the waiter to pour a glass for everyone in the room, so they could all help them celebrate.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

They drank, talked about their lives thus far, a bit about their school days, and two hours after the date began (and two glasses of champagne for Hermione, though she really did detest the stuff), Draco called for the bill.

"Is the date over?" Hermione asked, surprised. She thought they would linger over cocktails at the table, talk a bit more, and get to know each other better.

"This part is, yes," he said, adding, "but I have other things planned, don't fear." The waiter brought their bill, Draco signed it, and then he said, "Come with me, Dear One."

She liked being called 'dear one' by him. He motioned toward the veranda, and she walked in front of him. He sat on a deck chair, and motioned for her to join him.

"We both won't fit," she said.

He patted the space near his legs. She sat on the end, to face him. "What have you really been doing all these years, Hermione?"

"I don't know," she answered vaguely.

"Make something up. Make yourself sound interesting," he urged.

"You mean lie?"

"If necessary."

"I don't want to talk anymore tonight." She looked out over the railing at all the people on the boardwalk. She leaned forward to look between the slats and said, "This place is so alive."

"Yes, even though it's late, there'll be people out walking the boardwalk until dawn," he explained.

"Have you been here before?" she asked, turning to face him.

"Once, a long time ago."

"I really do think you should consider investing in this resort. I'll be a good investment," she explained.

He put his hands to his ears, as he did earlier, and said, "No more business!"

She stood up and said, "Let's walk the boardwalk."

He stood up, too, and they started down the steps. She stumbled over the last step and he pulled on her waist to steady her. Once he was down level with her, he decided to keep his arm around her waist. She hadn't swatted it away yet, so he thought that was a good sign. A good sign of what, he wasn't sure.

They walked past a booth that sold jewelry made from polished stones. He said, "Would you like a souvenir?"

"You can't spend anymore money on me, Malfoy," she said. She moved from his arms and looked down at the display case. She saw a beautiful bracelet that had polished stones of coral and beige. She pointed toward the glass and asked the man to see that one.

"Are you going to buy it for yourself?" he asked.

"I might." She looked at the price tag first, and then didn't try it on. It was too expensive. She smiled at the man and asked to see the earrings that matched. They too, were a bit expensive. She smiled and thanked him.

Draco said, "My new bride doesn't understand that people spend money on their honeymoon." Hermione looked up to see who he was speaking to, and saw that he was talking to an older couple beside them.

"It's your honeymoon?" the woman asked.

"Yes, we married this afternoon," Draco explained.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You must buy it for her," the man said. "We came here for our honeymoon 47 years ago, and we've come back every year since. I buy my wife something from this booth every year."

Draco said, "My bride grew up poor, so she doesn't like to spend money," and he put his arm around her. She glared at him. "But I say, sweetheart, I have enough money for both of us now, so let me lavish it on you. You no longer live in a two-bedroom hovel, with an outhouse. You live in a mansion now. Live a little."

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or hit him in the head. He tightened his grip around her, to keep her from bolting away from, or hexing him.

The woman took Hermione's hand and said, "Darling, you husband loves you very much, and what's his is yours now, so let him show you how much he loves you. Let him buy you this trinket, and years to come, you'll look back on it and cherish it forever."

Draco smiled at her and kissed her cheek. She was shocked. "Yes, sweetheart, let me buy it for you."

"Fine." She wasn't happy, but she didn't want to make a scene. Draco bought her the bracelet, the earrings, the ring and the matching necklace. He told the clerk to have them delivered to her room at the hotel.

They walked out of the booth, his arm still around her, but once out of sight of the older couple, Hermione shook off his arm and said, "How dare you embarrass me like that! I didn't grow up in a two bedroom hovel with an outhouse! For your information, the house I grew up in had four bedrooms and indoor plumbing!"

He could scarcely contain his grin and he said, "I just imagined that you were a Weasley for a moment."

"The Weasleys had indoor plumbing!" she shouted. "Granted, they only had one bathroom, but it was indoors."

They walked along the boardwalk, and when he tried to take her hand, she crossed her arms in front of her. They passed an attraction that drew Draco's attention. Hermione kept walking, but he called her back. She turned around.

"Let's see what this is all about," he stated.

She looked at the line of people, and then she read the placard that was at the end of the query line. It read: "**Take a ride on the newest Firebolt, only ten galleons**."

"No way," she harked.

"It'll be fun," he said. He tried to take her hand, but she put them both behind her. "Where's your sense of fun and adventure?"

"I left it at home, in my outhouse," she said.

"Come on; don't go with your first instinct. Do something different. Aren't you the one that said you wanted to live a little?" he asked.

"Malfoy, I don't like flying," she said. He took her upper arm and pulled her into the line. There were at least twenty people in front of them, so she felt she had time to talk him out of this little adventure, but she was wrong.

He leaned forward to the first person in front of them and said, "My fiancée is afraid of flying and I have talked her into going up with me. I'll give you ten galleons if you let us go ahead of you."

The man nodded.

Before Hermione could protest, he said to the next couple, "My sister here only has six months to live, and her dying wish is to go up on the new Firebolt. I'll give you both twenty galleons if you let us get ahead of you."

They nodded and smiled.

"MALFOY!" she chastised.

"Sh," he hushed.

That was how they got to the front of the line. He told the next man and woman that he was the one dying. He told the older couple in front of them that they just had a baby, and this was their first time away since it was born. He told the man in front of them that he was on a blind date, and whispered to him, loud enough for Hermione to hear, "I hope she'll have to hang on to me for dear life, and that way I might cop a feel."

And so it went until they were first in line. Hermione pulled on his sleeve and said, "You lied to everyone in this line!"

"Not everyone," he reasoned. "I told that last bloke the truth. We are on a blind date, and I do want you to hold onto me, and besides, why can you lie about us and I can't?"

Hermione shook her head and reasoned, "I was just playing make-believe at the restaurant, I wasn't lying."

"Well, make-believe that you give a damn about me and do this for me, alright?" he asked with a frown. He paid the man at the booth the twenty galleons and explained that they would be going up together.

They walked up to the broom, the man told Draco some of its features, though he hardly listened, and then he left them. Draco looked at Hermione and said, "Front or back?"

"Neither."

"Come on, Granger, there's a whole line of people waiting, get on," he said. He said, "Up," and the broom came level to his hips. He straddled it and said, "Now, front or back."

"Please, I know I want to experience new and different things, but some things, like my fear of flying, are so deeply ingrained in me, that I don't think I can change. I don't want to get on it," she pleaded. "Plus, I have a dress on, so I hardly think that it would be a good idea to go up in the air."

He smiled, touched her face lightly and said, "That's fine. I'll go alone, but will you at least give me a kiss for good luck?"

She glared at him for a second, wondered if that was his plan all along, but then she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Before she knew it, he had his arm around her waist and he kicked off the ground. He lifted her to sit in front of him sideways, and they were in the air faster than she could say, "prat".

"Draco Malfoy, put me down!" she said. She turned to face him and placed her arms tightly around his waist. She buried her head in his chest.

"I think this is rather nice," he said. "Stop moving so much, though, or we might fall."

She looked up at him and said, "FALL?"

"Well, we might," he said seriously. He was going slowly, but they were rather high in the air. "Look around, Granger. The scenery is beautiful."

She shut her eyes. "Please, I don't want to die before I'm thirty."

"That would be a shame," he said. He suddenly dived, and she hung on tighter. He liked this. He went up just as fast, and she screamed. He didn't like that as much, since her mouth was next to his ear.

"Is my eardrum bleeding from your shriek?" he asked.

"I don't care!" she answered.

They were over the open waters now. He said, "Just open your eyes and look at the moon and the stars. Don't look down. Just look up once, and I'll take us back."

She was afraid to turn on the small broom, but turn she did, grasping the handle with her hands. His hands were in front of hers, which meant his arms were around her. She looked up and said, "Okay, I see the sky." Then she made the mistake of looking down. "WE'RE OVER THE OPEN WATERS!"

"I told you not to look down," he scolded.

She closed her eyes tightly again, and he could feel her shaking. He put his chin on her shoulder and said, "Just keep your eyes closed, Hermione."

"Take me down," she said in a weak and pathetic voice.

"No, listen to me. Just keep your eyes closed." He put his left hand around her waist. She was still shaking all over. He brought her up against his body, so that they her back was flush against his chest. He continued to steer with his other hand. He told her to let go of the handle.

"NO!"

"Let go, Hermione, and put your hands on my arms. You're gripping the broom handle so tightly that I'm having trouble steering." He was serious about that. He was having trouble. She moved her right hand to his right wrist, which held the broom, and her left hand went over his, which still held her waist.

"That's my girl. Now, just imagine that you're at your favourite place. Keep your eyes closed, let the wind rush past you, feel the spray of the water on your face as we get closer to the water, and enjoy." He skimmed the water, letting the tail of the broom splash water all around them. He pointed the front of the broom back toward the sky, and they rose again.

"Where was your favourite place at Hogwarts, Granger?" he asked. "And don't state the obvious, which is the library."

He could tell that she was starting to relax. Her body was less rigid, and she no longer had a death grip on his arms. She said, "I used to like going up into the Owlery at school. I liked to be up high, and look all around at the school grounds. I'm not afraid of heights, by the way."

"Of course not," he surmised. "You're afraid of this little piece of wood's ability to keep you afloat."

She opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder at him. "How did you know?"

"I know you, Hermione." He felt he did, anyway, although he was sure there was as much mystery to her as there was common knowledge.

They flew a while longer and then he said, "We need to get back." His cheek was resting next to hers, and she was relaxing against his chest for the first time since they entered the sky. He didn't want it to end. He said, "Before we go back down, tell me something."

"What?" she asked after a moment.

He knew what he was going to ask. He was going to ask her if she thought they would have a real relationship, after this bogus blind date. But he didn't want to sound like some heart-sick fool, so he said, "Never mind." She turned to look at him again, but he was already maneuvering the broom back toward the ground. They made an easy landing, and Hermione dismounted before he did.

He handed the broom back to the man, and said to the crowd, "My sister, wife, fiancée, cousin, next door neighbour, and I appreciate the fact that you all let us go first." He gave them a slight bow, took her hand, and ran away from the crowd with her in tow.

They rounded a corner, and once away from the broom exhibit, he turned to her and smiled. She started to laugh and said, "You're crazy! YOU'RE CRAZY!"

"What else shall we do? The night's still young," he said.

* * *

Happy New Year Everyone!!!


	7. Chapter 7 Declarations

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 7: Declarations:**

"What else shall we do? The night's still young," he said.

"You know what," she said, "You've been picking out great things for us to do all evening, so why don't you decide, again. I'm all yours."

He raised an eyebrow and said, "That's a dangerous declaration."

"Well, for now, I'm all yours," she amended with a wirily smile.

He smiled and said, "Then let the date commence." He held out his hand. He didn't offer her the crook of his arm, but his hand. He had discovered, over not just the course of the evening, but from the moment he set eyes on her again, that he liked the feel of her hand in his. He felt as if it belonged there. Draco Malfoy always got what he wanted, and what he deserved, so if he wanted to hold her hand, no one would stop him, not even her.

To his unabashed surprise, she placed her hand in his as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. He guided her through the now sparse populace that was on the boardwalk. She said, "Where do they all go when the night meets the day?"

He looked puzzled for a moment, turned to look down at her, stopped walking and said, "Pardon?"

"It just that when I arrived here, there were so many people, like this afternoon, and I could barely thread my way through the crowd on the boardwalk, and now it's almost empty. It's almost eerie. It's so quiet."

He smiled at her, leaned down as if he was to whisper to her and said, "No, my Granger, it's almost midnight. That's where the crowd goes when the night meets the day. They go home to bed." Then he wiggled his eyebrows.

She tried to hide her smile, (her blush she could do nothing about) and she said, "Yes, well, I suppose it is late. There's probably not much to do at this hour." She didn't want the day to end. She realized that this was probably the best date she had ever had, and it was with Draco Malfoy. Usually, after a great date such as this, a person would want to see the other person again, and then again, and again. She could do no such thing. Once the evening was over, it would be as if the spell was over. The night would turn to dawn, and tomorrow would be another day, and he would be gone. Then Saturday would turn to Sunday, which in turn would turn to Monday, and then she would be thirty years old.

Reality was indeed a grim prospect. On Tuesday, she would be a thirty years old woman back at work, where this Draco Malfoy would only be a trace and a memory, and would be replaced with her boss, her employer, her former nemesis.

She truly didn't want this night to end.

"You seem thoughtful suddenly," he said. He pulled her to stop walking. Since he still had his warm hand covering hers, she was forced to oblige his command.

"I've had a nice time, this evening," she said slowly, choosing her words carefully.

"Well, so have I, my Granger. So have I," he said just as slowly, regarding her with each word. He studied her for a moment and then asked, "What's wrong?"

She didn't know if she had the words to express her feelings. They were gratitude, longing, hopefulness, weariness, sadness and joy all rolled into one. She pulled her hand from his and sat on a bench that was in front of a large, intricate sandcastle. Instead of sitting beside her, he stood behind her, over her, looking down at her.

She clasped her hands in her lap. He had the overwhelming urge to plant his hands on her shoulders, and force her to look up at him, at which point he would kiss her soundly, and while he struggled with his urges, she broke him from his thoughts by pointing at the large sandcastle. "Look at the design the person put into the turret on the castle. You can see each raised stone jetting out. It's so realistic."

He sat beside her. "Yes, it is."

She looked over at him, but he was now studying the castle. "Why would someone put so much work into something that won't last?" she asked.

"It's a challenge, I suppose, and they know it won't last, but it's fun while it's happening, and it makes them happy, and it makes others happy as well," he answered firmly.

She looked toward the ground and said, "I wasn't talking about the sandcastle. I was talking about you and this date."

He looked at her. The moon was just a sliver in the sky, but it afforded him enough light to see her features plainly, her full mouth, her iridescent skin, her thick curly hair. He answered, "I wasn't referring to the sandcastle either."

Her gaze met his. He reached over and removed the rose from her hair, which caused it to fall down on one side. She reached up with nimble fingers, and removed the remaining clasps, which held her hair in place. It tumbled to her shoulders. He looked at the somewhat wilted white rose, and then he twirled it in his fingers. He put it up to her face, and he stroked her cheek with the soft petals. She barely flinched. He let it trace from her temple, to her cheek, to her jaw, and then back up the other side. He finally pressed it to her lips, and he moved it gently back and forth, once…twice…three times. He envied this rose, which touched the lips that he felt belonged to him.

She looked down again. He pocketed the rose and said, "A memento of the night." Then he stood up and said, "Our date isn't over yet, Hermione."

"I think it has to be, Draco," she said. He touched her chin, forcing her eyes upon his.

He smiled down at her, and though the night was dark, she saw his features clearly. He rubbed his thumb back and forth on her chin and said, "What are you afraid of, my Granger?"

She was afraid of him. "Why do you keep calling me that?"

He sat back down beside her. "What shall I call you?"

"Hermione? Granger? Mudblood? I don't know. My Granger seems so…" she broke off her train of thought.

He finished it. "Intimate?" he asked.

She merely nodded as she looked away.

"You're mine for this night, and perhaps this night only," he said. She wasn't sure she heard him correctly. She looked back at him, but was now looking away.

She clinched her hands in fists. She wasn't sure what he meant by that, and she was afraid to think about it further. She said, "How long are you staying at the resort?"

"How long are you?" he asked back. He stood back up, and without notice, he took her hand again, and they resumed their walk.

"Until Monday, remember? You gave me Monday off work. I'm going to celebrate my birthday here, and then go back to the real world, where everything will be different." She said it with such conviction that he almost believed her, but only almost. He knew things would be different as well, but not in the same vein in which she said that statement.

They would be different because he was falling in love with Hermione Granger.

He took a steady breath and looked in the other direction. No, this was just an infatuation. He thought she was pretty, challenging, adorable, sexy, beautiful, on no, he _was_ falling in love with her. At first, he just thought he wanted to sleep with her, but now he knew he wanted so much more.

And she was such a pain in the arse sometimes, too.

Nevertheless, the heart wanted what it wanted, as cliché as that sounded. The main point was that Draco Malfoy wanted what Draco Malfoy wanted, and what that boiled down to was that he always got what he wanted. Always.

He knew he would have to tread lightly with her. Her and her blasted principles and ethics, her warped sense of right and wrong, her wretched ideology, were bound to get in the way. It must be hard to have such high morals. Draco was glad that his morals were so low that they never clouded any of his decisions.

He would deal with one problem at a time. The problem at hand was that he wanted to kiss her. He stopped walking again and said, "Let's deal with tonight, first. It's late, and we've had a long day, agreed?"

"Yes," she said hesitantly.

"I'm here until Sunday night. That means we have all day tomorrow to spend together, and most of the day Sunday. I only have one little meeting to go to that day, a breakfast meeting, and then later that day we'll celebrate your birthday before I leave," he rambled, thinking quickly on his feet. He wasn't going to leave her room for argument, so he kept talking.

"We won't worry about the whole working together scenario, because if you recall, we're different people this weekend. This weekend we're two people, who went on a blind date, had a fabulous time, chatted up, kissed a bit, held hands, and who decided to extend their date through the weekend, agreed?"

She cocked her head to the side, smiled, and said, "We haven't kissed."

"Are you sure?"

"Fairly certain," she said.

"I remember that differently," he said with a sly smile.

"Let me ascertain your memories on the matter," she played along. She removed her hand from his, turned to face him, but kept walking, but now she was walking backwards. She added, "You kissed my neck a bit, if that's what you mean by kissing a bit. Was that what you meant?"

"No," he answered. He reached for her as she started to tumble. She looked behind her, but then she kept walking. He thought he should steady her, for her wellbeing, of course. He reached out and placed his hand on her arm to guide her as she continued to walk backwards, and he continued his frontal assault.

"Did you kiss me when I wasn't looking?" she asked playfully.

"No," he reiterated.

"Did you kiss me in a dream?"

"Many, but that's not what I meant either," he said with a token of sarcasm.

"Did you kiss my doppelganger?' she asked.

"If I saw a Hermione Granger doppelganger, I would run and hide," he said. She laughed. She almost tumbled again, so he steered her toward the back of another bench. He pressed her backside daringly against the back of the bench, and stood in front of her. He took the hand that was on her upper arm and moved it behind her neck.

"When did you kiss me?" she asked, almost out of breath.

"Now," he declared.


	8. Chapter 8 Storytelling

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 8: Storytelling:**

Hermione woke up with a start. She had been having the most pleasant dream, when she woke up. She was dreaming that she was kissing Draco Malfoy, and then she realized that she really did kiss him last night! She looked at the clock. It was seven-thirty. She sighed a sigh of contentment, and then threw her covers off her body, turned on her stomach, and screamed into her pillow. "DRACO MALFOY KISSED ME!" She turned back around, sat up, and she could hardly contain the smile that swept across her face. He really kissed her last night, and it was a bloody fantastic kiss at that.

'He kissed me,' she thought again.

She lay back down and stared at the ceiling, reliving the events as if they had just happened seconds before.

He had her backed against the edge of a bench. The slats were pressing into her bum. He was dangerously close. She felt a tingling and a teasing sensation throughout her entire body. She bit down on her bottom lip, and then asked, almost out of breath, "When did you kiss me?"

And that was when he said, "Now."

Then he kissed her.

His hand was on the back of her neck, he loomed slightly over her, and his other hand went to cup her cheek. He smiled, what Hermione would classify as a devious smile, and then he kissed her cheek. She was almost disappointed, thinking the kiss on the cheek was the most she could expect, but then she realized that he wasn't done, not by a long shot.

He leaned away, stared at her intently, and then kissed the other cheek. She felt liquid heat go from her neck to her lower belly. She had no place to put her hands, so she grasped his lapels. He leaned away again, smiled once more, only this smile was a bit more endearing, then he said, "This is nice isn't it, my Granger."

She thought it was.

He leaned forward again, pressing the warmth of his body close to hers, and the hand that was on the back of her neck pressed onto her lower back, causing her to stand upright away from the bench, and close to his strong, masculine frame.

Then it was time to get serious, apparently, because he pressed his lips to hers, urged hers to open slightly, and he nibbled, licked, and kissed and she was temporarily driven to the point of insanity. The kiss ebbed and flowed, with a passion that Hermione Granger had always assumed was merely fable, but now knew was as real as anything she had ever experienced.

His mouth was rough and demanding. She thought it would be an innocent, sweet kiss, but she was wrong on so many accounts. It was hot, steamy, edgy, and it awoke things in her that she didn't even know were dormant.

Perhaps he felt the same as she, because once he awoke her fire and passion, and she moved her hands from his chest to the back of his neck, and pulled on his hair, and moved her mouth harder against his, he wound one hand in her hair, and let out a moan and he kissed her even harder.

He moved his mouth down her jaw, to her neck, and back up. She felt as if she could no longer stand, but he was doing such a good job of holding her up, that it didn't matter. In reality, it wasn't a long kiss. Hermione looked back on it and realized it took less time than it would take someone to tie their shoes, or eat a biscuit, not that it could be compared to those boring, mundane things.

No, this was the best kiss of her life. Draco Malfoy kissed her.

When he finally moved his mouth from hers, he had a shocked expression on his face, and she knew that her expression matched his. Then he said something surprising. He said, "Don't you dare say that this was wrong. Don't you dare tell me that I'm your boss. Don't you dare regret this, because I don't, and I'm never wrong about these things."

She blinked hard, twice, and shook her rattled head once. Her hands went from his neck back down to his chest. He relaxed his hold as well, but kept his arms around her. She rested her head on his chest, and he did something that she thought was the most tender, sweet thing, a man had ever done to her. He kissed the top of her head. His right hand was rubbing circles on her back, with his fingernails. Then he said, "I think we should get back to the hotel. We have a big day tomorrow."

Without looking up at him, her head still on his chest, feeling his heartbeat, and the rise and fall of his irregular breathing, she asked softly, "What do we have planned for tomorrow?"

"The rest of our date," he said. Then she thought he whispered, "And the rest of our lives," but she was sure that part was in her imagination. He put his hands on her face, forcing her to look at him, and then he leaned forward once more, and kissed her forehead.

They walked back to the hotel in complete and utter quiet, and it was bliss…pure bliss. The tingling she felt during the kiss continued to surface. He would squeeze her hand, smile at her, or brush her cheek. Even when he held the front door of the hotel open for her, and she walked in before him, he placed his hand intimately on her back, and the tingling continued. He walked her to her room, and she turned toward the door to open it, and then turned back. She reached for the rose on his lapel, and said, "This is my memento."

"Fine, I have what I want," he said. She wasn't sure what he meant by that, but she had an idea.

He placed his left hand on her face, rubbed her cheek with his thumb, and said, "Goodnight, my Granger." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead again.

"Goodnight."

She walked inside, danced throughout the room, (literally – she danced for a good ten seconds) and then she got ready for bed.

She slept for six hours.

Then she woke up, and now here she was, reliving the whole thing, and wondering for the briefest of moments if it was a dream, or if it was real.

She knew it was real. She sat up and began to worry, which she was predisposed to do. What would happen today? What would happen tomorrow? And the next day, and the day after that, and when they were back in the real world. Would he want to keep seeing her? Would she have to get another job? Could she get another job? What would her friends say? What would his employees think?

She hated that she was ruining a perfectly nice little afterglow, from a perfectly wonderful evening, by worrying herself to the point of having an ulcer, but that was who she was. She could pronounce to the whole world that she was a different woman, but inside, she would always really be the same.

And even that worried her a bit.

She showered and dressed quickly. She put on a light blue blouse, sleeveless, and a pair of white walking shorts. She got her purse together, and walked to her door. She opened it and found a white rose on the ground in front of her door. She smiled again.

She shook her head back and forth, while bending down to pick up the flower. She thought, 'Draco Malfoy kissed me,' once more and then she looked at the note that was attached to the rose with a piece of ribbon.

"_**Meet me for breakfast on the veranda. I have a great day planned. I hope you slept well."**_

She said, "I did," to herself. She broke the rose off at the stem, put the stem on a table in the hallway, and put the rosebud and the note in her purse. She started down the stairs. She walked out to the veranda, searched for Draco, and when she saw him, she wasn't sure if she should join him or not. He was sitting at a table with the older couple whom they had run into at the little souvenir stand last night.

She turned to leave, but he stood up and called for her.

Well, she assumed he was calling for her, but then again, her name wasn't…

"Heather, darling, over here, dear one." Draco stood up and motioned for her to join them. She looked over her shoulder. Heather? He walked up to her, took her hand and said, "Play along." He showed her to a seat and then sat down beside her. "Heather, I'd like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, although they insist that we call them Louis and Martha."

"What?" she asked.

Mrs. Johnson said, "Derek here was nice enough to join us for breakfast, although I told Louis that since you were on your honeymoon, he shouldn't have asked. You probably want to be alone, but Derek said that you wouldn't mind joining us, so here we are."

Hermione looked as if someone had switched her brain to 'off', because she had a blank expression on her face. She looked at Draco and said, "Who's Derek?"

Draco laughed and said, "Mind-blowing sex last night, literally has her all befuddled this morning."

"Oh, Derek," the older woman said, slapping his arm.

The older man laughed and said, "I remember those days."

Hermione felt like she was the butt of a practical joke. She knew Muggle television often played such jokes on people, but they were at a magical resort. Still, she looked around for the cameras.

Draco leaned over and said, "Heather, what's wrong, dear one?"

"Who in the world…oh. Heather and Derek. From last night. Our names. Right." She turned to the older couple, flipped her hand in the air and said, "Poof, my mind just went right out the door for a moment. I apologize."

She picked up a menu, to hide her smile, and Martha said, "Your husband already ordered for you."

Just then, a waiter set a plate in front of Hermione. She frowned. Louis said, "Not many young women like coddled eggs and kippers."

"No, they don't," Hermione said, as she openly blanched. She thought that the eggs were staring at her. She in turn, stared at Draco. She kicked him under the table.

"Ouch," he said. The older couple looked at him and he said, "Oh, I burnt my tongue on my tea." Hermione switched plates with him, and took his omelet and bacon. Derek said, "Dear one, I know we've only been married for a day, but I'm not sure how you could forget that I'm allergic to fish." He set the kippers and coddled eggs back in front of her. Then he looked at the other couple and said, "She's always been a bit mentally challenged, that one."

Hermione took a piece of his bacon back.

Louis said, "How did you two meet?"

Draco was stuffing his omelet in his mouth as quickly as he could and said, "Tell them, wife."

"We went to school together," she said, seeing no reason to lie.

"Yes, she was two years ahead of me." Draco smiled at her sweetly.

"I'm five months older than Louis," Martha stated.

Hermione sighed.

Louis said, with a twinkle in his eye, "You married an older woman, old boy, good for you, good show I say. Men die first, you know."

Draco nodded and said, "Right you are, chap, this way we'll die about the same time."

Hermione pointed her fork at Draco and said, "Don't count on that. I have a feeling you'll die much sooner than I."

Draco almost laughed. He slipped his hand under the table and squeezed her knee, and she actually stabbed his hand with her fork, which made him grimace.

Martha asked, "If you went to school together, does that mean you were childhood sweethearts?"

Again, not wanting to lie too much, Hermione said, "We hated each other in school."

"Really?" the woman asked.

Draco was quick to add, "Yes, she was a pureblooded bigot, with a Death Eater father, don't you know, and I was measly little Muggle-born. She used to call me Mudblood all the time. Once she even slapped me in the face." That last part was the only truth in that whole statment.

"Draco!" Hermione shouted, throwing her fork down on the table.

"Quite right, Heather," he said, then he turned to the others and said, "She's reminding me that once in a while she did call me Draco as well. I didn't even know what that meant for the longest time, but I found out later it was Latin for Dragon, which is still her nickname for me to this day." He smiled and then looked down at his plate. Her coddled eggs had replaced the rest of his omelet. He looked back at Hermione, gave her a daring glare and continued his façade. He told the older couple, "Yes, she was rich and pureblood, I was poor and Muggle-born, but here we are."

Louis looked confused and said, "Yesterday you told us she grew up in a hovel."

Hermione laughed at that, leaned toward the older man, and said, "With an outhouse, remember?"

"Yes, I recall you said that, too, dear," Martha said. All three looked at Draco.

He would not be deterred. Lying was his forte, so to speak. It was almost as easy for him to do as breathing. It came to him as easy as being rich and good-looking. It just WAS. He said, "No, alas, I was the one that grew up poor. I'm the one that grew up in the hovel with the outhouse. I'm so proud though. I fought my way to the top, tooth and nail, and every Knut and galleon I've earned I've earned them the hard way, through hard work, sweat, tears, and a bit of luck."

Hermione said under her breath, "Or stole from your daddy's purse."

Draco reached under the table again and grabbed her hand. He brought it to his mouth, kissed it, and said, "She just doesn't like me to spend my money on her, sweet thing. She knows how hard I work. In fact, I work harder than anyone of my employees. They're all a bunch of layabouts, right dear one?"

Hermione felt like throwing up. She said, "Purebloods are usually snobs, who think they're better than everyone else because of the happenstance of their birth, and most of them did turn out to be Death Eaters, but I don't want you to think unkindly of me." She looked at Draco the whole time she said it, though she pretended she was talking to the older couple. She felt like sticking her kippers up his nose.

Draco glared and said, "Now, dear, not all purebloods are snobs, and there were plenty who didn't turn into Death Eaters."

"The ones that didn't were too inbred to care," she said back. She looked at the older couple and said, "No offense, of course."

"You're offending yourself, if anything, young lady," the older man laughed. "We're both half bloods, but your husband's right, we're sure your family isn't bigots and Death Eaters, although I concur with you, most of them really did turn out to be no good in the end. Most of the problems we've had in our world have been caused by them and their prejudices, and most of them rest on the laurels of others, expecting everything to be handed to them, merely because they have history of inbreeding and more money than they need."

Draco didn't like the way this breakfast was heading. He was slowing becoming offended, and it took a lot to offend him.

Hermione looked over at Draco, and noticed that the traces of good humor and fun times were gone. His mouth was set in a firm line, and his jaw clenched tight. She felt badly for the things she said. She could tell that he wanted to either leave, or say something back, but he could hardly do either, since he started the lies in the first place. She decided to intervene. She said, "I'm not offended, but really, you shouldn't generalize an entire group of people, Louis, and then claim that group of people are guilty of the very thing that you yourself are perpetuating. Your view that purebloods are to blame for everything wrong in our world, and that they don't work hard, or don't care, is as prejudiced as when a pureblood blames Muggle-borns for the very same thing."

Draco looked over at her proudly. He was about to leave, with or without his wife, 'Heather', but now that he knew that she was defending him, even if it was unknown to the other two, he decided to stay. He scooted the kippers into his napkin, and handed her the last slice of his bacon. It was the least he could do.

The older woman asked, "What house were you in, in school?"

At the same time, Hermione said, "Slytherin," Draco said, "Gryffindor," and then they looked at each other and laughed.


	9. Chapter 9 Worry

**all characters belong to JKR **

**Chapter 9: Worry:**

After breakfast with the Johnsons, Hermione and Draco walked away from the veranda, having woven a tale beyond all tales, and they were laughing and holding hands. Even though they were now out of sight, and earshot, of the older couple, they were still holding hands and laughing.

They walked out toward the beach, past the boardwalk, and Hermione pulled Draco to sit down on the sand next to her. Hermione said, "I can't believe you told them you were best friends with Harry!"

"That was perhaps the hardest lie I've ever told. I felt the words burning a hole right in my heart as I spoke. I literally felt my grandfather turn over in his grave," Draco said, still laughing. "I still have a slightly bad taste in my mouth, but even better than that was when you told them that you were the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team!"

She shrugged and said, "I have to admit, once in a while, its fun to lie."

"That's why I do it all the time."

Suddenly she stopped laughing. She said, "You do lie all the time, don't you."

"Only when I have to, and only when it counts," he joked. He turned and noticed that she had stopped laughing, and even worse, she was no longer looking at him. "What's wrong?"

"This is exactly why I was anxious earlier. This is the exact reason I was full of doubt, and worry. Is all of this a lie?" she asked. She sucked in a breath. It was. The kiss, the date, everything…was a lie. He was playing an elaborate joke, a folly, a farce, and he never pretended otherwise. She was such a fool. She felt hot and bothered, and not in a good way. She looked to the ground, and began to shake in anger and shame.

"Hermione?" he asked. He touched her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"No, I need to go back to my room," she said. She wanted to stand up, but couldn't move. He caught a glimpse of pure horror on her face, all the pieces began to fall into place, and he suddenly realized what was wrong with her.

He said, "You know that this isn't all a lie, don't you?"

"How would I know?" she asked. She looked up at him. "You're such a good liar, that perhaps you're lying now, and I would never know."

"I am possibly the best liar you've ever met, true," he bragged, but still he understood her sullenness and apprehension. "I lied to steal you away from your date this weekend. I lied to those people in the dining room last night, and in the line for the broom ride, and this morning at breakfast, but all of that was a game. You lied too, I might point out."

"Yes, but," she started.

"No buts. It's all just been a game." After he said it, he wasn't sure that sounded any better than saying that he lied.

She glared at him now and said, "So all of this was just a game to you? A challenge to be met? A joke, a game, a part to play? Was any of it real? Have you meant anything that you've said or done since last night?"

He stood up and brushed off his pants. "Don't insult both of us by assuming that, Hermione. Your asinine questions and accusations are unbecoming and plain rude. Of course it's not all been a game!"

She stood as well. "What about the blind date? What motivated you to work so hard to replace yourself as my date? You know it was because it was fun for you! You did it because it was a challenge! You did it to humiliate me!"

"How did I humiliate you?" he spat back.

She had no answer for that. She merely glared at him, her arms folded in front of her. He put his hands up in frustration and stated, "Fine, in the beginning, it was a bit of a challenge. It was kind of fun. I wanted to catch you in your lie about the wedding, but more than anything, I wanted to have fun this weekend, and I wanted to have it with you. I wanted to date you. I sincerely and truly wanted that more than anything else. My agenda was never clear cut."

Hermione shook her head and said, "But all that nonsense at breakfast…"

"Was committed by both of us!" he finished her sentence.

"You started the lies!"

"And you finished them! It was fun, it was a game, Hermione, but that doesn't mean lying defines me!"

"Can you go a day without lying?" she asked. The thing was, she didn't shout or raise her voice when she asked that question. She asked him quietly.

The answer was that he wasn't sure that he could. He probably never had. He told lies everyday of his life, in one form or another, and he defied her to stand there and say that she never lied.

"Everyone lies, Granger. Everyone tells falsehoods and fabrications. They exaggerate to make stories more interesting, they tell white lies to keep from hurting other people's feelings. Someone will ask you how you're doing, and even if you're having a rotten day, the answer will be, 'fine, how about you?' Your friend will ask you what you thought of that new jumper she bought and you'll say, 'it's a nice colour on you', even if it makes her look ugly! Everyone does it everyday and in every way! I'm just more up front about it. I admit it. Do you?"

"I don't lie everyday. I don't, Malfoy. I worry about telling the truth. If one of my friends ask me to come over, and I just plain don't want to, I don't make up an excuse. I'll tell them that I'm tired and just not in the mood. Someone asks me if I like their new haircut, and I don't, I'll say, 'all that matters is if you like it'. I try to spare people's feelings, but I don't lie," she finished.

"Maybe you're a better liar than me, or perhaps you're just that much more of a better person than I am, Granger," he spat.

"I'm not saying that," she tried to explain.

"Part of this was a game. Part of the fun was the lies and games, but that doesn't mean that is all it was," he explained, though he really couldn't explain.

"What was the kiss? Was the kiss a lie? Was the kiss part of the challenge? Was the kiss part of the pursuit, the game?" she asked. She stepped closer to him and looked up into his eyes.

"The kiss was real," he whispered.

"How do I know?" she asked. "You yourself said that you're one of the best liars around. How do I know you're telling the truth now?"

He took her hand. She tried to pull it away, but he used it to anchor himself to her. He pulled her closer. They stood on the beach and he didn't care who saw them. He placed his other hand on her neck. "This is real. You can't lie about this. I feel your pulse quicken just at my nearness. That's real." He took her hand he held captive and placed it on his neck.

"Feel my pulse," he pleaded. "I can't fake a rapid pulse. Look in my eyes. I'm sure my pupils are dilated just at your nearness."

"I don't know what to believe," she said.

He pressed his cheek next to hers. Then he said, "Come with me." He took her hand and led her from the beach, beyond the boardwalk, to a shop window. He turned her toward the plate glass, so that both of their reflections shown in the glass.

"What do you see?" he asked.

"Oh, Malfoy," she said, starting to walk away. He took her by the shoulders, and forced her to stand in front of him.

"No, tell me," he said. They were both standing toward their reflections.

"There's a cute little purse in the corner of the display window," she said, pointing.

"Some people would think that your avoidance is a form of lying," he said arrogantly. "Are you trying to be obtuse?"

"Fine, what do you want me to see?" she asked, her reflection staring into the eyes of his.

He huffed in exasperation and said, "You're a smart, insightful woman. You're nobody's fool. Stop acting like one."

She frowned.

He continued, "I want you to tell me what you see in my eyes."

"What am I looking for, Malfoy?" she asked.

"You're looking to see if I'm lying right now. I want you to see that I'm being sincere."

He continued to stare into her deep brown eyes. He knew that he looked slightly angry, because that was how he was HONESTLY feeling at that moment. He felt backed into a corner. What was worse was that he felt that it was of his own making, and he felt slightly, ever so slightly bad about that, which also made him angry. The worst of all was that he felt remorse! What was that about? He felt remorse and guilt for lying, and now that he was trying to be truthful, she refused to believe him, and he actually understood her reluctance, which meant that he had to work ten times harder now to make her believe him when he was finally telling the truth!

Again he asked, "What do you see, my Granger?"

She didn't answer.

"Fine!" he practically shouted. He turned her to face him. "Don't answer, be stubborn and obstinate. But let me tell you what your answer should be. You should see a man who had one of the best nights of his life last night, without sex, or money being involved, or any of the other things that I usually equate with happiness."

Suddenly, she started to laugh.

That wasn't what he expected. He ignored her laughter, and said, "Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

"Someone who is emotionally stunted?" she asked. Then she smiled again. He rolled his eyes and she said, "Fine, I know you're dying to tell me."

He turned her back around, pulled her up against his chest, and his hands went back to her shoulders. He whispered in her ear, "I see a woman who had an effing good time as well. Are you telling me that my eyes deceive me? Are you trying to take away my good memories of last night, or belittle my thin grasp on happiness by telling me, no, accusing me, of lying about these things? Are you, my Granger? Aren't you too smart to have someone pull something over on you anyway?"

She turned to look at him, and her look was undistinguishable. He cocked his head slightly to an angle and said, "Why do I feel like you're about to throw an apoplexy fit?"

She laughed again, which he didn't expect any more than he did the first time she laughed.

She stopped laughing and said, "While all of your sentiments are slightly sweet, but twisted and annoying, the truth, if you dare to believe me, is that I'm worried, Malfoy." To his surprise, she placed her head on his shoulder.

"What are you worried about, Granger?" He almost added a smart remark about how she couldn't be happy if she wasn't worried, but he decided to remain quiet.

"I'm worried about things," she said. She placed her arms around his waist. He decided if he kept things drawn out, she might press more parts of her body against his.

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't worry, so try to articulate your fears a bit better," he said. He put his arms around her. He pulled toward the wall by the window and started to stroke her hair with his hands. He said, "Tell me what you're worried about the most?"

"No, because you'll tell me not to worry," she said.

"I might not," he bartered. She backed away from him.

"You'll tell me to leave my cares and concerns behind, and to live in the moment, and to let go and have fun, even if it's just for the weekend," she said.

"You're worried that I'll tell you not to worry?" he asked, confused.

"No, but if I tell you WHY I'm worried, you'll tell me all of that, and I'll smile and agree, but deep inside, in the dark recesses of my mind, the worries will still prevail. I want this to be real, but I'm afraid of what that means if it's real. I think I would prefer you to tell me that it's just a game. I think I prefer that you tell me that all of this is a lie, and then I won't have to worry about my feelings any longer."

He smiled, a crooked smile, and said, "I can't tell you that, because that would be a lie, and I've just decided that I don't lie anymore." He could barely keep a straight face.

"Now that's a lie," she harked, slapping his chest. She took his hand and pulled him to the edge of the boardwalk, where they sat down on a bench. She said, "This is the same bench where we kissed last night." It was an observation, but not a pertinent observation.

She dropped his hand, turned toward the beach, placed her hands on the wooden seat of the bench beside her legs, and while grasping the boards in her hands, she shut her eyes, and said quickly, "What happens after this weekend? You leave Sunday night and I leave Monday, and on Tuesday we'll see each other at work, and what happens?" She turned her face farther away from him. She looked over in the other direction and said, "Do we share shy smiles, and sly winks? Do we hide behind doors and sneak kisses? Do we go back as before, as if this weekend never happened? Do we start dating openly? Do I look for another job? I just started there, but I like it already. I want to work at a place where I'll have an impact and make a difference, but is my job more important than my personal life? Why do I have to choose between the two?"

He put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. She turned back toward him. He said, "It's a wonder your head hasn't exploded from all those question swirling around in there. That's what you should worry about, Granger. It has me worried, but then again, I'm just glad to know that's all that's bothering you. I was worried that the constant look of constipation on your face was a sign of things to come."

She hit him hard. He started to laugh. "In the words of the Beatles," he started, "let it be, Granger. In times of trouble, let it be."

"Whisper words of wisdom," she mocked, quoting the song right along with him. She said, "See, I knew you would make light of all of this. I knew you wouldn't answer me."

"I'm confused, that's all," he said. "Are you worried that I'm lying, or are you really worried that I'm being truthful?"

"A bit of both," she clarified.

He stood up and said, "How the hell can I answer that? I don't know the future any better than you do, so I honestly, and I mean _honestly_, can't answer that. Can you truthfully answer those questions?"

"You do know the meaning of that word, truthfulness, right?" she asked with a slight smile.

"You don't have to be a duck to know that it waddles and quacks," he answered.

She laughed and said, "Quack." She stood up and said, "If I try really hard not to worry, will you try really hard not to lie any longer?"

He looked as if he was in pain. He stood beside her and said, "It's a bit late for that, because I already lied about something else, and in fact, we're going to be late if we don't get a move on."

"Late for what? And, what did you lie about this time?" she asked, _worried._

"I'll ignored that question, which is full of worry, if you take my advice not to question things right now. Don't worry right now. Let's enjoy the rest of the day, and the next day, and see where we end up. By tomorrow evening, it might be a moot point, because I might thoroughly hate you again."

"And you might disgust me again," she said.

"And I might find you revolting," he added.

"Liar," she snapped. "And I might find I honestly like it when you lie. Fine, let's avoid this for now. What do you have planned?"

"I booked us an appointment at the spa, but I booked it as a 'couples' appointment. Facials, saunas, massages, the works, but I honestly told them that we were married, to get the special rate, and the special package, so I lied, can you handle one more small lie, and then I'll give it up for good," he promised.

"The spa?" she questioned. "That might be nice."

"Our appointment is for ten sharp, which is only twenty minutes away, so go get ready and meet me at the spa in ten minutes," he said. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

She ran toward the hotel, turned back once, smiled and waved, and ran up the steps to the veranda. He smiled and watched her go, waving the whole time. Then he apparated directly to the spa.

He did lie, one last time, but the lie was right now, because he hadn't planned a joint appointment at the spa, but he decided that might be just what she needed to wash away her worries, and besides, if the lie was for good, could it be bad? He ran up to the reception desk at the spa, smiled his sweetest smile at the girl behind the counter, and said, "Hello, My name is Derek Malone, and I'd like to make an appointment for the full treatment for my bride and myself, for this morning, cost is no factor." Yes, one more lie wouldn't hurt, would it?


	10. Chapter 10 Decisions

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 10: Decisions:**

Draco waited for Hermione to meet him in front of the door of the day spa. He paced back and forth, pondering everything that she had said to him. She was worried. She was worried if their relationship would last beyond the weekend.

In truth, if Draco was ever able to recognize such a thing as _the truth_, he was slightly worried as well. Should he tell her how he feels? Would he seem pathetic if he suddenly pronounced his feelings to her? What if he made a formal public statement? What if he wrote it in the sand? Across the sky? Put it in her employment contract? Tattoo it on his bum? Should he have an engraved edict presented to her on her birthday? (That last one wasn't a bad thought.)

He wasn't even sure what he felt! He had never been in love, so perhaps the feelings he thought he felt for her were just a faint giddiness that comes from being happy. Draco had never really been happy, either.

That thought made him scowl. Right, he had never really been in love, or extremely happy, so neither of those feelings blatantly rushed to the forefront of his brain as recognizable 'feelings'! Besides, she probably wasn't thinking about love. She didn't mean that she loved him. She was probably one of those people who had to be analytical about everything. No doubt, she had to study every variable, make a pro/con list, pie charts, and graphs, and look up references to love in books.

What did she want from him anyway? Promises? Devotions? Proclamations?

He decided something. He would take his own advice and live for the weekend, and worry about the real world later. He would cherish and love her for now, even if it was under the guise of 'having fun' or pretending. He would kiss her, hug her, perhaps a bit more, and then when they got back to work they would sort everything out.

*********************************************************

She grabbed a sundress, some lotion, deodorant, and other toiletries, as well as a book, and threw them quickly in a small bag. She ran back out of her room, toward the day spa, but then she stopped, midway down the hallway.

She laid her feelings out bare for him, and he really said nothing to placate her. He merely asked her what she wanted from him, and she never really answered him, nor did he answer her. What did she want from him? What DID she expect?

He felt torn, she was certain, as did she. She wouldn't mind a relationship with him, but she wanted to keep working at Malfoy Industries, even though she just started there. She was excited by the prospect of a job where she was able to put her ideas in motion, and where things actually came to fusion. She didn't really want a relationship right now. Of course, sometimes the best things came when a person wasn't expecting them.

After he asked her what she wanted from him, she realized that what her heart wanted (and perhaps what her body wanted) might be slightly different from what her head wanted. She decided that she would take his advice to heart, and try not to worry, and try to have a fun weekend, because so far, that was what she was having, and it was beyond fantastic. She would have fun in the moment, and not want for anything more. They could have fun and not kiss or make out, or have sex, right?

He might not think so. She smiled at that thought. She also decided not to worry, and to try hard not to dread Tuesday until Tuesday rolled around. Yes, she would take his advice, live for the weekend, and worry about everything else when the time came. She would have fun, pretend with him, even lie if necessary, but one thing was certain, it couldn't go beyond that. That meant no more kissing or hand holding. No more intimate moments, even under the guise of having fun. They could still have fun without all of that.

****************************************************************

She ran down the stairs, all three flights, and saw him waiting for her at the doors of the spa. She smiled as she ran toward him. He smiled back. She practically ran into his arms, and in fact, skidded to a halt, placing her hand on his chest to stop.

"Hi!" she said, breathless.

"Ready for a nice morning at the spa?" he asked.

"I'm ready for all sorts of things," she said, making a declaration.

He thought she looked radiant for some reason, so he leaned forward, to kiss her, and she leaned away.

"By the way," she said, hand still on chest, "I've decided something."

"Go on," he said, frowning.

"No more kissing. Fun is a given, lying is okay, but no kissing, hand holding, or the like. Let's just have fun."

"But that doesn't sound like much fun to me," he announced.

"It's for the best. It'll make things less complicated, and then when the weekend is over, we can go from there, and see what happens," she said.

He felt like slapping her. That was truly what he felt. Even if he didn't recognize foreign feelings like 'love' and 'happiness', disappointment and anger were two things he recognized like dear old friends. "We have to pretend to be a couple at the spa," he whined.

"Well, hand holding is okay then," she said.

Why was she ruining everything? Stupid Granger! They were supposed to be on their honeymoon! Snogging was a requirement! Shagging was even an option! He took her hand and with a frown still plastered on his face, he pulled her into the spa.

"Heather and David Malone for a ten o'clock appointment," he said harshly to the girl at the desk. He was squeezing Hermione's hand so hard that she finally pulled her hand from his.

She leaned forward and whispered, "Heather and Derek."

"Sorry, my little wife reminded me that my name is Derek," Draco told the girl. She looked at him confused, but then asked them to have a seat for a moment.

He sat on one end of the soft, beige couch, and she sat beside him. He folded his arms in front of him. She leaned over and asked, "Are you angry?"

"Yes."

"Because I said no kissing?" she asked.

"What do you think?" He glared at her. She sat back and stared toward the other wall. He leaned forward again and said, "You know, we have to pretend to be Daniel and Heather for at least two more hours, so why did you agree to the spa, if you don't want to share affection?"

Share affection? Who said things like that, Hermione wondered. She said, "It's Heather and Derek, and you know that. No more of this Daniel and David stuff. You make Heather seem like a little tramp, with a different man each minute. And I'm sorry, I thought I _was_ taking your advice. I decided not to worry and to have fun, and I decided we could sort out our feelings when we got back to London." She turned back toward the wall.

"When did I say, 'Don't worry about things, and let's not share affection?' I don't think I said that," he proclaimed.

"Share affection?" she finally asked aloud. "In what sense do you want to share affection?" she asked sarcastically.

He smiled. He leaned over and put his index finger on her bare leg, and then he kissed her shoulder. She shivered. He sat back up and said, "Shared affection, my dear Granger."

She had to admit, that was nice. She shook her head and said, "But that will complicate things and confuse me even more."

"Heaven help a confused Granger," he mumbled to himself.

"What are we to expect here at the spa?" she asked, changing the subject. "The works or what?" She picked up a 'menu' that was on a side table, and looked at all of the amenities offered by the spa.

He took his finger and pointed to each thing he had booked. "Facials first, along with manicures and pedicures, then a wrap, a milk bath for you, a sulfur bath for me, the sauna, a massage, and then for you, a shampoo and style, and then I ordered us new outfits from that boutique down on the boardwalk." He folded the menu and said, "Then, I booked a late lunch on a yacht." He leaned over her, on purpose, and placed the menu back on the table by the side of the sofa.

"If you want it to be strictly platonic, that's fine, we can still have fun," he said. He knew he was still going to have fun. He smiled inwardly, and decided something new. He never played fair when he was a child, so why should he start now? He would give in to her, if only in theory. He would play nice, and fair, in the beginning, but by the end of their three hours in the spa, she would be putty in his hands. She would be a piece of clay, which he could mold, totally at his mercy.

Hell, she would be begging, no, pleading, to kiss him again. HA! Draco Malfoy loved the chase, and so let the games begin.

"How much is this costing you?" she wondered, "Because I really don't want to be in your debt."

He rolled his eyes. He stretched out on the couch. He actually turned his body, so he was on his back, threw his legs over her lap, his head on the armrest. He threw an arm over his eyes and said, "It's a business expense, so don't fret. Wake me up when they finally come to get us."

Hermione looked down at his legs over her lap, and then at his blank face. His eyes were shut, and she felt slightly off balance by the intimacy of his body over hers. He was acting surly, yet he was practically 'lying' on top of her.

"Malfoy?" she asked. She was holding her arms above his legs since he draped them across her, but she felt stupid with them up in the air, so she placed them on top of his legs.

"What?" he asked glibly.

"You do understand why I said no kissing, right?"

"No, but it's fine, no kissing, I understand," and he raised his head slightly from the arm of the couch, looked at the receptionist and said, "It's ten minutes after ten!" He put his head back on the armrest, and shut his eyes again.

Hermione continued her train of thought. "Kissing will complicate things, and then I'll worry even more."

"I'll worry if we don't kiss," he mumbled under his breath.

"Pardon? I didn't make that out," she said, although she had heard him fine.

"Better that you enjoy your weekend, then worry," he amended. He actually, ever so slightly, believed that. He did want to show her a good weekend, but damn, he wanted to kiss her, too. Draco just decided something else. By the end of the day, she would be the one that kissed him, or his name wasn't Draco Malfoy.

****************************************************************

"Draco," she started. She shook one of his legs with her hand. "How much would this have cost if we hadn't done it as a couple, because, I'm not indigent, I could pay my half."

He opened his eyes again, sat up quickly and said, "Are you still on about that?" He wanted to ask her how he would know how much it cost, since he had never once in his life looked at a price tag, but instead, he said, "I charged it to my room. I don't know how much it cost, okay, but its nonrefundable, so please, let's enjoy it." He didn't know if it was nonrefundable.

Then he lied again. "I booked it yesterday, when I first arrived." Why did he say that? "It's too late to back out now." Double lie. "We took their last spot, anyway." Maybe Draco really didn't know how to tell the truth. "They'll expect us to act as if we are a newly married couple, so sweetheart, just relax and have fun."

"Mr. and Mrs. Malone?" An attendant walked out of the glass double doors, and said, "This way, if you please."

He stood up and looked down at her. She had a slightly worried look, which made him cringe. He said, "One moment," to the attendant. He sat down and said, "Am I permitted to hold your hand, for a moment?"

He had held her hand more times than she could count during the last week, so what was one more time? He sat back down beside her and she slipped her hand between both of his. He leaned over closely to her, and whispered in her ear, so that only she could hear. "I don't want to embarrass you, or cause you distress, so I won't act as if we are married, I won't force my affections on you. I want you to feel comfortable. This is for you, Hermione." The problem, she just realized, was that each syllable of each word he had just spoken to her, felt like a small kiss on the side of her neck, and she felt fuzzy again. Her pulse was quickening, her breathing was irregular, and she could barely see.

She was also sure that he was highly aware of all of these things. She turned her head to him slightly, and he put a finger under her chin, and then leaned forward, as if he wasn't already close enough, and whispered one last thing. "I promise that I'll be as chaste as a virgin on her wedding day." His nose skimmed her jaw, and he kept her hand in only one of his so that his other hand could go to her back. He rubbed it in small circles on her back.

Then he went in for the kill. He smiled.

She wanted to kiss him so badly that her insides ached.

He jumped off the couch, pulled her up at the same time by the hand that was still in his hand, and said to the attendant, "We're ready!"

Hermione just decided something else. Draco Malfoy wasn't playing fair.

* * *

_A/N: For those who don't like personal Author Notes...stop reading now._

_For the rest...keep me in your thoughts. I have to have some surgery for removal of some lymph nodes, and a tumor, in my neck. Thanks. I'll update when I can._


	11. Chapter 11 Confessions

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 11- Confessions:**

Hermione had a slight frown as she entered the spa's main room, hand-in-hand with a certain blond wizard. She looked at him with her peripheral vision and noticed that his look was once of extreme satisfaction. In fact, he looked like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary. She even imagined seeing a feather sticking out of his mouth.

She was the canary, but of course.

He was manipulating her. She wouldn't be surprised if he tried everything in his power to get her to kiss HIM today! Even now, as the woman droned on and on about their morning ahead, he had his arm around her, but instead of it being draped casually across her shoulders, he had it tightly around her waist, his hand was gripping her side, and his thumb was slightly moving back and forth.

She knew she was clenching her teeth in frustration. He was now laughing at something the stupid woman was saying, and then he grabbed one hand, brought it to his mouth, kissed her fingertips, and then kept the hand in his.

He looked at her, smiled, and asked, "Doesn't that sound wonderful, sweetheart?"

How would she know? She hadn't heard a thing the woman had just said. All she could hear were warning bells in her head. "Danger, Danger, Danger," they rang. She thought she even heard a siren, saying: "Draco is going to get you!"

"Sounds great," she said with a fake smile on her face, although she had no clue as to what she had just agreed to do.

The lady gave them both white terrycloth robes and showed them to a large dressing room with lockers. Hermione looked around for a place to change. She turned to ask the lady where she should change but the woman was gone and Draco already had his shirt off, and oh…my…goodness…he had a beautiful back. Hermione wasn't even aware she particularly liked backs until this moment.

His shoulders were broad and well defined, his waist small, and, ON NO! She turned around. He was removing his pants.

She opened one of the lockers opposite of Draco, and deposited her bag. Then she stood there like an idiot until she felt him standing behind her. "Aren't you going to get in your robe?"

"After you're done and leave the room," she answered.

He gave a small chuckle and said, "When the woman outside asked if we wanted private changing rooms, or a joint one, you agreed that we should change together in this room, dear Granger. Also, I rather think that would look strange, if I should leave so you could undress. We're supposed to be married. Married people usually dress and undress in front of each other."

"The Amish probably don't undress in front of each other," she said, still talking to the locker.

"Amish? Who are they? Do I know them?"

"They're a sect of people in North America, who live their lives simply and plainly, and by the rules of the bible, and I bet they don't get dressed in front of each other," she rambled.

He frowned. He was standing behind her in nothing but his silk boxers and that was the whole point! She was supposed to see him naked, and he had hoped to see a bit of her in return. However, she wouldn't turn around! Instead, she wanted to talk about some bloody, Yank, married couple from the States with the last name of 'Amish'. He put his hand on her back and asked, "How well do you know these people to know that they don't undress in front of each other?"

She shook off his hand and said, "Are we really having this asinine conversation?"

"You started it. Get naked," he barked. He backed away, removed his shorts, and donned the white bathrobe. He sat on a bench in front of the locker. "I'm in my robe now."

She turned around slowly. He sat on the bench opposite her, his legs crossed at the ankle (his bare legs and bare ankles, thank you), and his arms folded in front of him. The robe was tied at the waist, but the neckline came down into a deep V and she could see his chest, which looked like it matched his back just fine.

There was a knock at the door. The woman outside said, "Are you two ready?"

"Not yet," he shouted. "Hermione, they're going to think we're having sex in here or something." He laughed. She made a gargled sound, but turned back around. "Get naked," he urged softer.

She was biting her bottom lip. There was no choice. There wasn't a corner or crevice for her to crawl in; there was no private chamber, or loo. She turned back toward him and said, "Turn around first."

He threw up his arms, huffed in exasperation, but turned around to face the lockers. "Hurry up."

She kept her eyes on him the entire time. She slipped out of her shorts first, folding them hastily and placed them on the bench. She unbuttoned the three buttons at the top of her shirt and then pulled it halfway over her head, looked at him once more, and then ripped it the rest of the way over, and placed it on top of her shorts.

"Granger, I'm growing old over here, and you don't have on that many clothes," he complained. "Hurry up."

She reached behind her, unclasped her bra, and slipped it down her arms. Just then, the door opened and a strange man walked in.

Everything that happened at that point was a blur to her. She screamed, Draco turned around, stood up, saw her bare breasts, even though her hands went to her chest quickly. He looked toward the door, where a man stood, wide eyed, apologizing profusely, but staring intently at Hermione. Draco stormed over to the man and said, "Get the fuck out of here!" He pushed the man out of the door.

When he turned back around, Hermione had the robe on. Her bra was on the floor, and she was sitting with her back toward him, her head down, resting in her hands.

"He saw me naked!"

"Not completely," he said, to pacify her.

"You saw me naked!" she sounded even more horrified.

"Not completely, and not very much, or very long," he said, almost complaining. He walked over to her and sat on the same bench in the opposite direction. He bumped his shoulder into hers and said, "At least you didn't make him run from the room, screaming. That's always a good sign."

She glared at him.

"Do you still have on your knickers?"

"What, do you want a look at my bare bum, too?" she asked.

"The woman told us to get completely, naked, that's all," he said.

Hermione stood up, turned away from him, reached under her robe, took off her knickers, and then she turned toward him and threw them at him as hard as she could. Since they were made of cotton, and small, they didn't make much impact.

"THERE!" she yelled as she threw them at him.

The knickers hit his shoulder and landed on his lap. He looked at them, made a funny face, looked at her, laughed, and said, "Well, now I don't know what to do, Granger. If I pick them off my lap, you might get angry because I touched your knickers. If I fold them neatly and put them on top of your clothes, you'll think I'm strange, although that's my first instinct. If I stick them in my pocket, you'll think I'm a pervert. I'm at a loss."

She laughed a real, long, hard, good laugh. He joined in as she walked over to him, took her knickers from his lap, bent down carefully, holding her robe in front, she picked up her bra from the floor, and placed all her clothes in her locker.

"Come on, Derek." She held out her hand.

Taken to a room with two massage tables, the young wizard who walked in on them while they were in the changing room came in, followed by a middle-aged witch. "Are you ready for your massages?" the young man asked.

Hermione looked at the table. She looked at Draco. She looked at the man, and then at the woman. She looked down at her robe. When she looked back at Draco, he was already taking his robe off. She averted her eyes as he lay on the table, face down, his head resting in a little cut out, padded, hole. He was completely naked. The woman put a towel over his bum.

She smiled. He had a nice backside, to go with all of the rest of the things that she thought was nice. She wanted to tell Draco not to look, but she knew that would sound strange. The young wizard patted the table and said, "Come on, Mrs. Malone, take off your robe and get on the table so we can get started."

Draco raised his head and said, "Oi, young fellow, you aren't massaging my wife, it's bad enough that you've already ogled her once."

"That's fine," the young man said, whose nametag revealed that his name was Jason. "I'll massage you and Melissa can do your wife."

Hermione leaned back on the table to wait for the inevitable. She knew that Draco was frowning, his face in the little hole. She stood up from the table, kneeled down, almost on the floor, and looked up at him. She said, "He does you or me, Mal...I mean, Derek. What's your pleasure?" She stood up, laughed, removed her robe quickly and went to lie on her table.

Draco looked up just as Melissa was putting a towel across Hermione's shapely backside. His gaze lingered on her long legs, and the dip of her back, to her arms, which she had against her sides, so he couldn't spy even a small part of her breast. He looked at Jason and decided that he would rather the chap massage him, then for him to touch her. If Draco couldn't touch her, no one could. "You massage me," he said to the man. Hermione laughed again, awkwardly, her face in the hole on the table.

"I've never had a massage before," Hermione declared as the woman started to work out the tension in her shoulders.

"Really? You don't know what you've been missing. I'll have to make up for that and give you one sometime," Draco responded.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," she answered back. Draco wanted to remind her that they were supposed to be married, but he couldn't.

Instead, he asked, "Hey, Heather, we've not discussed this before, but where do you want to live now that we're married?" He decided that he could find out a lot about Hermione while they received their massages.

"Well, I just bought that town house…before we married, and I think I'd like to stay there. It's large, but needs a lot of work."

"Oh," he said, absentmindedly. Suddenly, he heard Hermione hum a sound of satisfaction. It sounded almost like a sound someone makes when they're having sex. He grew hard, and then he became uncomfortable because a man was massaging him, and he didn't want anyone to think that his current faux pas had anything to do with Jason, when it was totally brought about because of Hermione. To take his mind off of his embarrassing situation, he said, "I want to live in the Manor."

Hermione frowned and said, "No way would I live there." She was glad they weren't really married.

"I don't mean with my parents, I mean someday, when they're dead," he said.

Hermione couldn't help but to raise her head to look at him. When she did, she saw he was looking at her, too, and he had a devious smile on his face. She put her head back down.

He added, "I didn't think you would want to live with my parents, Herm…Heather."

"I wouldn't want to live in the Manor, no matter what, Derek," she said steadily.

He raised his head again. He was about to ask her why, but he knew why, so he kept quiet. He watched as the woman was massaging Hermione's legs. He growled, still hard, still uncomfortable, with the man's hands now on his legs and he said, "How many kids do you want?"

"One, maybe."

"I want two," he confessed.

"Really? I would have thought that since you were an only child, you would only want one."

"No, I wouldn't want a child of mine to be lonely. With a brother or sister, they would have a built in friend," he continued to confide.

"I liked being an only child," she surmised.

"Well, you didn't need siblings, you had all those friends growing up," he reasoned.

"You had friends," she said slowly. She raised her head. He raised his. They looked at each other.

"What school did you go to?" he asked, flippantly. "Those people were not my friends." He put his face back down.

She continued to look at him. She put her arms under her head, and stared at him for a long time before she said, "Two it is, then." She felt badly that he had a lonely childhood. She didn't know that he felt isolated and friendless at school. The more she thought on it, the more she could see that what he said was true.

He looked at her again, and her eyes were closed. He mimicked her body, so that his head was now resting on his arms. He looked down her body and could see the side of her right breast, and its gentle swell, because her arm was no longer in the way, blocking his view. He noticed that the other man had temporarily stopped massaging him and was looking at her as well.

"Hey, chap, eyes off my wife," he said. Hermione looked over, saw that both Draco and the man could see the side of her breast, so she hurried and put her arms back down to her sides, her head back in the hole. Draco asked, "Do you want to keep working, after marriage that is?"

"Yes," she said. "Don't you want your wife, I mean me, to work?"

"No, I'd like that, especially since you work for me. I can sexually harass you and you can't do anything about it," he said with a laugh. He put his head back in the hole.

"According to this bogus employment contract you keep mentioning, you can do that anyway," she retorted.

"True," he answered.

The man finished with Draco, just as the woman was finishing with Hermione. The woman said, "Stay there, and relax. Someone will come and get you for your baths." Draco sat up, towel draped across his lap. Hermione stayed where she was. She couldn't get up without him seeing her. Draco hopped off the table, slung the towel loosely down on his hips, tucked the side in securely, and walked over to her.

"You have oil on your back," he said. He picked up a towel from the end of her table and started to wipe the oil off her back, slowly and meticulously. It felt decadent, but heavenly. He stroked her back softly, rubbing the rough towel over the planes and curves of her spine and shoulders. He rubbed her neck with the towel, and then dropped it on the floor.

He bent down close to her, and said, "All done. You can sit up now."

"I can't," she confessed.

"I'll turn around," he promised. She turned her head to the side, and saw that he had turned toward the other wall. She sat up quickly, and took the towel that was around her bum and placed it around her body. It was short and it gapped slightly in front.

"Where's our robes?" she asked, looking around.

He turned to stare at her. Hell, he couldn't help it. He said, "Come here, my Granger."

Her head snapped up to look at him. "No, now where are our robes?"

He bent down under the table, to a small shelf that was underneath, and held a robe out to her. "Here, Hermione." He walked up to her and instead of just holding it out to her, he opened it, to suggest that he would help her put it on. She slipped one arm inside, while her other hand held the front of the towel. He walked around her body, and helped her get her other hand in the robe. He even tied the waist, which felt extremely sensual to her, for some strange reason. The towel that was on her body dropped to the floor.

He kept the end of the robe's sash in one hand and cocked his head to the side. He wanted to kiss her! Why couldn't she just concede and kiss him already? He pulled on the sash, which made her take the one-step needed to enclose the space that was between them.

She placed her hands on his shoulders. "Kiss me, Granger. I can't wait until the end of the day, and according to you, I can't kiss you, so that leaves you to kiss me. I confess that I want to kiss you so much that my heart aches, so kiss me, please, and put me out of my misery."

* * *

_(A/N: Damn, Hermione, kiss the man already, right? I don't have anymore written at the moment, so I don't know when the next update might be. Thanks to everyone's kind thoughts and prayer, by the way. They mean more to me than words can express. I may not 'know' any of you, but I feel as if I do!)_


	12. Chapter 12 Challenge

**all characters belong to JKR, which isn't me**

**Chapter 12: Challenge:**

His hand clutched the sash of her robe. Her hands trembled on his shoulders. He said once more, "Just kiss me and get it over with, please."

"Draco," she said as a warning.

"Kiss me," he said with an endearing smile.

"No," she said, almost in a whine.

"What do you want, Hermione?" he asked, because frankly, he was tired of trying to figure her out. He flipped the sash out of his hand, and walked around to the other side of the table. This woman was a mystery to him. He didn't believe she was being coy. He knew she wasn't playing hard to get. She had scruples, morals, hopes and dreams. In short, she was the antithesis of him, and she was a puzzle that he wanted to solve.

When she said his name, he caught the warning in her tone. He walked back toward her, close, but not touching. Then suddenly, his hand went to her wrist, and held tightly, his thumb pressing on her pulse. He could tell that she had a reaction at his nearness. He knew that she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted her to kiss him. He could tell by her racing pulse that she wanted _something_.

But she couldn't let herself go. She couldn't trust him. That thought irked him to no end. He wouldn't expect someone like her to risk everything on a weekend fling, a mere tryst, a simple kiss. Was it just a kiss that he wanted? And in the end, was that what she wanted to know? Did she want assurances that it would be more, or did she want a promise that it would be less? He was determined to find out.

He glared at her, and could tell that her brain was at war as well. She was trying to figure him out. She was trying to uncover his motives. He wanted to tell her, 'good luck with that, and when you figure it out, let me know,' because he hadn't a clue as to his motives. Unlike her, he was ruled by his emotions, more than by his head.

They were in a mutual tug of war, a challenge of sorts, and a challenge fraught with turmoil and undoubtedly pain, somewhere along the way.

He walked around her once more, and stood behind her. "It must be hard."

"I hope that's an opening to a statement, and not some double entendre," she said with a smile.

"You're so witty," he said sincerely. He faced her once more and again pulled on her sash. "No, I mean it must be hard to constantly over-analyze every little thing everyone says. I just wanted a kiss."

"It's not that easy," she stated.

He threw his head back and laughed. He closed the space between them and said, "Kissing," he put his cheek next to hers, "is extremely," he brushed his nose down her jaw, "easy." His lips were next to hers. He was so close that she felt his breath in her mouth. "It's also enjoyable." He pushed against her, and she stumbled backwards.

He looked at the door, annoyed with her and with himself, and said, "When are they coming to get us for our baths?"

"Draco," she began, "What I mean is that it'll complicate things."

"Complicate, complicate, complicate! You're complicated," he snapped, "and furthermore, Malfoys don't beg, so I'm done with you. I don't even want to kiss you now." He was on the verge of becoming sincerely infuriated with her. He NEVER had to put this much effort into having a woman kiss him. He said, "I wonder…" but then he stopped.

"You wonder?" she asked.

He was going to say that he wondered why he found her such a challenge, but instead he said, "I wonder what you look like under that robe."

She shook her head and walked toward the door. She opened it and peeked outside. "Where are they? Were we supposed to follow them?" She turned back and said, "By the way, you're a liar."

"And your point in pointing that out is what?" he asked.

"You do still want to kiss me," she said.

"Piss on you, Granger dear," he said with a laugh, although she hit the nail on the head. "I'm offended."

She leaned against the door and said, "Can you go two hours without lying?"

He thought about it for a moment, and then said, oddly enough, quite truthfully, "I doubt it. Can you go two hours without pointing out my faults?"

"I doubt it," she said with a smile. "But at least I'm not a liar."

"No, you're just an arrogant, know-it-all, who thinks she's better than everyone else," he said simply.

"Ouch," she said, opening the door again, just as another woman came into the room with a clipboard in her hand. "My name is Erica, and we have your baths ready, Mr. and Mrs. Malone."

"Yes, Heather dear, my wife," Draco said, pushing on her back slightly as they walked down the hall after the woman, "They have our baths ready, Mrs. Malone, the anti-liar."

She turned and gave him a dirty look as they entered a large room with many different tubs and spas. "Mrs. Malone, you're scheduled for a milk bath," the young woman stated, as she pointed Hermione toward one of the large tubs. Hermione looked over the edge, and placed her hand in the milky-white water.

"What is a milk bath?" Hermione asked.

"It's a regular bath," the girl said, "with the addition of milk, honey, and lavender, as well as other essential oils. The benefits of these baths are that they dissolve the proteins that hold together dead, dry skin. It will soften and moisturize your skin, and it will relieve stress. We'll turn on the jets as well, so I think you'll enjoy it. When you're done, we'll have you rinse off over in the showers." She pointed toward a row of showers, which had curtains in front of them.

"Not much privacy in here, is there?" Hermione asked. She looked down at her robe. Draco was very interested in this fact as well.

"You can wear a swimsuit, if you'd rather," the girl stated. "Did you bring one?"

"Well, no," Hermione said.

Draco put his arm around her and said to the girl, "My wife here is bashful. Do you think someone could run to one of the boutiques and get her a suit?"

Hermione looked over at him and smiled, because he was being endearing, but then he said, "She has nothing to be ashamed of, well, except for that embarrassing mole with the hair coming out of it."

Hermione hit him upside the head.

The girl laughed, not believing him, and said, "Mr. Malone, we have you slated for the tub next to your wife, and you'll be having the sulfur bath. It's a thermal bath, and the warmth of the water is beneficial in pain killing, and acts as an anti-inflammatory. It uses hydrogen sulphide."

"It smells horrible," Draco said, leaning down to take a big whiff. "Why can't I have the milk bath?"

"You can, but it would take a while to get it ready, and this is what the joint package calls for, milk bath for the wife, and sulfur bath for the husband."

Draco said, "Seems a bit unfair. She gets to smell all sweet, like honey and flowers, and I'll smell like burnt rubber."

Hermione laughed and said, "Get in the tub, Darren."

"David," he corrected.

The woman looked at the clipboard and said, "It says here it's Derek."

Hermione and Draco looked at each other and laughed. He threw off his robe, without any embarrassment, and he eased into the tub. Hermione didn't look away once. If he was going to flaunt his assets, she was going to enjoy them. He had a nice body, of course she had already thought as much. The young girl turned on some of the jets in his tub, and he leaned back and said, "This is the life."

Hermione waited until he shut his eyes, turned her back to him, and slipped off her robe. He opened one eye slowly. He saw her naked backside, and her back, as she eased down into the tub. Damn her modesty. The girl turned on her jets in her tub, and then left them.

Hermione said, "Do you think you lie so much because you're afraid of the truth?"

"I'm relieving my stress here, Granger, and your voice, full of condescending pride, is stressful to me, so shut up," he said. His eyes were still closed.

"I'm the one relieving stress with my milk," she corrected. "You're anti-inflaming, something or other. No, the reason I asked was because I wondered if you were up for a challenge."

He opened one eye again. Then the other. He was interested. He said, "You have my attention, commence."

He thought she looked a bit devious herself, even though he could only see her from the chin up. She put her hair up out of the milk, and draped it over the side of the tub. She said, "Let's have a contest of sorts. You have to tell everyone, including me, the absolute truth for the rest of the day, no more pretending to be married, no more deception of our fateful blind date, no more pretenses. No more lies as to whether or not you want to kiss me or why. If you make it to the end of the day, without lying, you win. If you don't, I win."

"What do I win?" he asked slowly. He cocked one eyebrow and sat upright. "Do I win you? Are you on the table?"

"I'm not on the table, I'm in a tub," she said metaphorically.

"Yes, yes, you're witty, I already established that," he said quickly. "Seriously, do I win you?"

"You win your kiss," she said, as she shut her eyes and tilted her head up toward the ceiling.

He rose up slightly, to see if he could see in her tub. He could only see the gentle swell of the tops of her breasts. He said, "I need more than that, we need to sweeten the pot a bit, besides," he stopped talking for a moment to shut the jets in his pool off so she could hear every word he was about to say. "I hate to burst your nice little bubble, but I could tell you that I'm telling the truth, and still lie. You wouldn't know, and I'm enough of a gentleman to point that humble piece of news out to you, my Granger."

He turned the jets back on and leaned back.

She leaned up. He was still watching her. She put her hands in front of her chest and leaned toward the side of her tub. She said, "I have assurances, or a safeguard, if you decide to my challenge."

"What? Unless you have truth serum in your pockets, you would only have my word, and I hate to tell you this, but my word isn't worth much." He rose up slightly again and said, "Do you even have pockets?" He started to stand up and said, "I better check."

She screamed and backed down into the white, milky, water and held up one hand and said, "Sit back down! I don't need pockets. I have a truth spell I'll use on you." She had a wide smile.

He sat back down and frowned. He was slightly worried. He had backed down from challenges before, so it wasn't like his pride would be wounded if he told her that he wouldn't agree, but he really didn't think he could go a whole day without lying! He said, "I've never heard of such a spell before. What is this truth spell? Are you lying about a truth spell, Granger? Shame."

"I made it up myself, and I've tested it on Ron and Harry before, so I know it works without a doubt," she said. "If you lie while under the spell, you'll get terrible stomach cramps, and the more you lie, the more it will hurt, so you will have every incentive to tell the truth." She smiled. "And sure, I'll sweeten the deal a bit, after all, you have a wonderful date planned, as well as something nice for my birthday tomorrow, I hope, so you deserve more than a kiss," she declared, satisfied that he would agree to her terms.

"What's your idea of sweet?" he asked. "I like more than milk and honey," he said. He put his hand over in her tub and touched the milky water.

She was slightly worried that his mind would go there. "You don't think I mean sex, do you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, seemingly shocked by her question. He hated that she was once again calling him out on something, so he was quick to add, "Anyway, I know you didn't mean sex." He was even lying now. He said, "Fine, truthfulness will be my new creed, for the rest of the day, and all I want is another date, after we get back to the real world." In his mind, he ended that sentence with, 'and it ends in sex.' "Yes, a date that extends beyond the confines of this resort, that's what I want."

She looked troubled, which troubled him. "You want to see me after we get home?"

"Apparently."

"You want us to, what, date or something?" she asked.

He said, "I don't want a commitment, here. I want a date." He was being truthful, dammit!

That was what she really wanted too, but was afraid to admit as much. She asked, "Just one date?"

"For now, so do we have a deal?" he asked. He held out his hand to her. He would accept her challenge, now would she accept his?

* * *

_A/N: I__f you are all extremely nice to me, I might be persuaded to post the next chapter tomorrow! _


	13. Chapter 13 Warning

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 13: Warning:**

Hermione accepted his offer by taking his hand and shaking it once. When she tried to pull her hand from his, he held tight for a moment and then asked, "What do you get if you win? I mean, if I double over in pain, and you know that I'm lying, what do you get? What do you win?"

She hadn't thought of that. She might have picked the same thing he picked, but now she was in a predicament. She said, "I don't know, seriously." She knew her brows were knitted together as she sank a bit lower in the tub. She suddenly sat upright, put her arm over her chest, and turned off the jets. He had already taken notice when she sat upright. He leaned forward and turned off the jets on his tub as well.

"Did you think of something?" he asked.

"What if I wanted the same thing as you?" she asked sincerely.

He wanted to smile, but he tried to play it cool. "Then our little contest is seriously flawed."

She turned her head and thought for another moment. He took that moment to smile. She wanted to continue to see him, too! Hip-hip hooray and hallelujah! She turned back to face him and he let the smile slip from his face. "I've never had this problem before. I usually always know what I want."

"Sounds to me like you want me, and you're not TRUTHFUL enough to say it," he said, somewhat arrogantly.

This made her slightly angry. She said, "Fine, what I want, if I win, and I discover that you lied, is NOT to see you personally. I will continue to work for you, but that's it."

He was frowning now. "You're stupid." Okay, that wasn't the most mature thing for a 29-year-old man to say, and not at all an accurate description of her personality, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. "You are seriously going to pick 'not seeing me' as your prize, even though ten seconds ago you admitted that you wanted to date me?" He stood up and she averted her gaze. He didn't bother with the towel. He walked over to one of the showers and said, "Fine, we'll go back to whatever the hell we were, and I won't bother you again, but I don't intend to let you win!" He pulled back the heavy white curtain and stormed into the shower.

She didn't intend to win either, unless she could think of a better prize. She didn't even have a truthfulness spell. She felt slightly wrong telling Draco that she did, but she never thought he would take her up on her challenge. The irony that she lied about a truthfulness spell was not lost on her. She lied about it one other time, when she was a lot younger, a couple of years after the war. She told Harry and Ron that she had come up with a truthfulness spell. She did it as a prank, or rather, as a 'psychological experiment', to see if they were suggestible to her claims. She told them if they lied, they would have terrible stomachaches, until she lifted the spell.

She said some silly incantation, which she didn't even remember, and then she started drilling them with questions. The first few questions were all fun and games, and everyone laughed, and the boys were truthful.

Then she asked Harry when he lost his virginity. She assumed he told her the truth, even though Ron gave him a dirty look, because he knew it was with Ginny, but didn't know it was when they were younger.

She asked Ron when he lost his, to be funny, because she already knew the answer. It was with her, when he was 18, and she was 19. Only, he looked at the floor, and said, "With Lavender, when I was 16."

Hermione was dumbstruck.

She asked Ron if he ever cheated on her when they were dating. He said no, but then he started to look a bit green around the gills. She turned quickly to Harry and asked him if Ron had ever cheated on her. He looked at the ground and he said, "No."

Then Harry's hand went to his stomach. She turned to Ron and asked, "When you broke up with me, was it because of another girl?"

He looked at Harry, and then back to Hermione, and answered, "No." Then he looked ready to throw up.

She spun to Harry and shouted, "Same question to you, Mr. Potter!"

Harry said, "Ron, I can't take this pain, I'm telling her the truth." He looked at Hermione and said, "Yes, he dropped you for another girl."

By this time, Harry's 'pain' had subsided. Ron was still holding his gut. Hermione knew that their 'symptoms' were caused by a guilty conscience, and not because of her bogus spell. Her spell was having a placebo effect.

She stood up and said, "There is no truthfulness spell! I just made it up! I lied! The pain you feel is your own guilt and remorse eating away at you!" Then she started to cry and she ran from the room.

She didn't talk to either man for close to two months. They really should have been angry with her for lying, but she was just having fun, and she found out things she didn't want to know.

Would the same thing happen with her and Draco? A terrible warning bell went off in her head. She didn't want this to happen between them. Apparently, he wanted to keep seeing her, she really wanted that too, and it would all fall into place once they reached London. She would tell him the deal was off.

She looked back at the showers. He was still in one. Curtains were drawn across two of the showers, and she was the only person in the room. She stood up, wrapped herself in her robe, and went over to the shower to tell him that she rescinded the challenge.

The two shower stalls with curtains closed were right next to each other. She could hear water running from them both. She couldn't recall which he had gone into, since they were side-by-side, but she thought it was the one on the right. She pulled back the curtain slightly, didn't look in, and said, "May I speak with you?"

A man poked his head out of the hole she had made, and said, "Hell, sweetheart, you can do more than talk to me. You can join me if you want."

Hermione opened her eyes, looked down (force of habit), and said, "Oh my gosh! I thought you were someone else."

"I can be whoever you want me to be," he leered.

Draco had heard the entire exchange. He had opened his curtain the minute he heard her voice, and was now looking out his partway-opened curtain. He tapped her on the shoulder. "Did you want something?"

"Draco!" she said.

"Does this mean you won't be joining me after all?" the naked man inquired.

Draco spat, "If she's joining anyone it's me, her husband, so back off." He pulled on her arm and pulled her right into the stall.

Then she looked down again. She had already looked at the other man, so she might as well look at him. She looked back to his face, and THEN she put her hands over her eyes. "Oh my goodness!"

"Hermione, did you want something?" he asked, leaning against the wall, in the small, confined space. The water was beating on both of them. It was weighing down her terrycloth robe. He tapped her shoulder again.

She turned around to face the curtain. "Umm, well, I should go."

He put an arm around her waist. She felt flushed. He turned her around. "What did you want?" he asked, more curious than before.

She had forgotten what she had wanted. The water was splashing into her eyes. He turned her so that the water was falling on her back. Suddenly the air in the small shower stall sizzled all around them. The air was thick with steam and desire, it felt tangible, real, and it awoke something in her. She sighed. He looked concerned. The water continued to rain on her head and face, and she stared right into his grey/blue eyes and said, "Oh, hell!"

Then she put her arms around him and kissed him. She kissed him because she wanted to kiss him. She kissed him because her head told her not to, but her heart told her to go for it. She kissed him because it was something that she normally wouldn't do, and wasn't that the point? Wasn't she trying new and different things? The warning bells continued to clang in her ears even as she placed her warm lips next to his.

It was a rough meeting of lips, fierce and almost dangerous. She pushed him so hard that he hit the tile wall. Her hands went around his neck, into his wet hair, and his hands went around her waist, because she practically threw herself at him, and he almost slipped. He wasn't even sure he could hold her upright. The water from the shower made the floor, and the kiss, even wetter.

She snapped her head back, and stared in shock. "Oh no, what have I done?"

"Nothing yet," he said, and then he put his mouth back on hers. This time, it was gentler, a soft lingering of lips on lips. He pressed his tongue inward, and met no resistance. In fact, she moaned and he turned them around and pushed her up against the tile wall.

He realized something. Her kiss reached inside his heart and squeezed tighter than he thought possible. It was as if she had a grip hook on his heart, and he didn't care, and he didn't want her to let go. He started to rain small, passionate kisses, all around her face, to her jaw, and neck.

The new kisses were agonizingly sweet to her, and she knew if she didn't get out of the shower right at that moment, she would be trapped forever. She needed something, anything, to break the spell between them. His hands went to her soaked robe, and he started to push it off her shoulders.

That was a mistake. The spell was broken.

She pushed him away and said, "I can't! I'm sorry. Not yet."

She ran from the shower. He opened the curtain to watch as she ran completely out of the room, dripping water in her wake.

Fifteen minutes later, he was fully dressed, his hair still wet, and he started to leave the spa, when the first woman came up to him and said, "Your wife is getting her manicure and pedicure now, and wants to know if you're going to join her."

He was confused. He thought surely, by now, she was upstairs packing, getting ready to leave the resort.

It seemed that Hermione Granger truly was a changed woman, one he didn't know at all, but one he wanted to know, intimately and completely.

He was escorted to a different room, he saw her in a new robe, hair up in a towel, and she was having her manicure. He sat beside her. When a woman came toward him, he waved her away.

"Where did you go?" he asked.

"What colour nail polish should I get?" she asked, ignoring his obvious question. "There's passionate pink, red and delicious, plum delight, and peach preserves."

"Sounds like fruit cocktail," he said. Then he said, "Get the plum."

"Plum it is," she said.

"Where did you go?" he asked again.

She merely sighed. "I still have to get my hair done, and then I suppose we'll be heading for the yacht, right?"

"Yes," he said. He crossed his legs and his foot jiggled up and down. He was agitated. What was with her?

"Are we going to be the only people on the yacht, besides the crew, I mean?" she asked.

"Yes, and before you ask, it's my yacht."

"I wasn't going to ask," she said. They sat in silence the entire time she had her nails done. The girl started to paint her toenails. He reached over and held her freshly painted hand.

He finally asked, "Don't you want to be alone with me?"

She looked down at the girl, and then back at him. "That's not it." The truth was that she was _afraid_ to be alone with him. She was afraid of what she might do, and she didn't want any regrets when it came to him.

He looked at the girl giving Hermione's pedicure and said, "Could you leave us a moment?" The girl only had four toes done on one foot, but she stood up and left them alone. "Do it now, Hermione," he urged once they were alone.

"Do what?"

"The spell. The spell to make it so I have to tell the truth, but I have some requests of you," he said.

"What is it?"

"You have to do it to yourself too, and you have to lift the spell whenever I ask you to, and there's only one question you can't ask me, but everything else if fair game."

She wanted to tell him that she lied about the spell, but she also wouldn't mind getting some truthful answers from him. She knew it was unkind of her to act as if she could cast a spell that she couldn't, knowing that she could still lie if she wanted to, and again, warning bells, of a different type, were clanging loudly in her brain, but she ignored them.

"Fine, but I'll wait until the yacht to do the spell. By the way, what's the one question I can't ask?"

"You can't ask me if I love you."

That stunned her, and she wasn't sure why, because she wasn't really planning on asking him that, especially since they had just begun to date, if this was even considered dating. He rubbed the palm of her hand with his thumb. She said, "Agreed, but you know, I've changed my mind about something. I've decided on what I really want, in case I win this contest. If you can't help but lie, then I should get a reward of some sort, don't you think?"

He turned her hand around and kissed her palm. She felt the kiss all the way to her bones. Her hand trembled in both of his. He finally lifted his gaze to her and said, "What do you want, if you should win?"

"You have to answer the question that you won't allow me to ask, and you have to answer it truthfully," she said softly.

"You're playing with fire, and I hope for your sake, neither of us gets burnt, my Granger." He stood up, leaned over, cupped her cheek, and kissed her forehead. It was so tender and sweet. He said, "I'm through here, so I'll meet you by the docks in 40 minutes. Bring a swimsuit. Be prepared to win our challenge."

He started to leave and she called out, "Don't you mean, be prepared to lose?"

He laughed and said, "Right, that's what I meant." He walked out of the door, sent the girl back into Hermione and he smiled all the way to his room. It no longer mattered who won her little challenge, because either way, Draco Malfoy figured he was the real winner.

* * *

_Personal A/N: Thanks to 'muli', whose review to the last chapter gave me 25 reviews, which was the magic number that I decided I wanted before I would post the next one. Yes, silly, I know, but I have so little in my life to look forward to, so there you are._

_My surgery is the 23__rd__. I'll try to send out a couple more chapters before then. I have 5 more written, but not edited. This story will be around 35 chapters long, I think. It will extend beyond the weekend. I've had several people send me PM's asking about that. I don't want it to be too similar to "An Unlikely Pair" or its sequel, so I want it to go longer than just the weekend._

_Thanks!_


	14. Chapter 14 Secret

**all characters belong to JKR:**

**Chapter 14: Secret:**

Hermione Granger had a secret. She lied to Draco Malfoy and she didn't like it one bit. Draco Malfoy had a similar secret. He knew that she was lying, and he liked it a lot.

They had no sooner been on the yacht than Draco said, "Do it now."

"Do what?" she asked back.

"The truthfulness spell," he explained.

She felt slightly alarmed. The whole time she was getting dressed in her room, she debated on whether or not to tell him that there wasn't a spell. On the walk to the dock, she thought about it. Waiting with him on the dock, she thought about it. She was on edge, worrying about it.

Seriously, was she going to lie about a spell that wouldn't make him lie? Didn't that make her a hypocrite? Didn't that make her no better than what she proclaimed him to be…that being, a liar?

"Draco, I have something to tell you," she said, as they stood on the deck of the boat.

"Yes?" he drawled out, waiting.

"You have something in your hair," she lied. Goodness, she was becoming quite adroit at lying. She reached up to his hair, and acted as if she took an undetectable piece of 'something' out of it, dropped it on the floor, and said, "Got it."

"Okay, do it now," he said once more. He was relentless.

"Could we take a tour of the boat first?" she asked, stalling.

He offered her his arm, and they started walking. Draco knew she was stalling. He also knew why. She was lying. She was lying about knowing a truthfulness spell.

A few years ago, he went out on a date with a friend of Ginny Weasley. Somehow, during the evening, the talk turned to Ginny and Harry. His date talked about how much she liked the pair. He talked about how much he couldn't stand them. To show that they had some common ground, the girl told him a story that she thought would show Harry in a poor light.

She wove a tale that started with, 'Once upon a time', the golden trio was having a nice evening, when the smartest of the three, Hermione Granger, played a prank on the dimmest and ugliest of the three, (either could apply to Harry and Ron, in Draco's humble opinion.) Apparently Hermione pretended to do a truthfulness spell on the two gits, made them believe if they didn't tell the truth, they would have terrible pain, got them to confess to all sorts of things, and then they had a massive row when she discovered things she didn't want to hear.

Draco Malfoy's respect for Granger grew enormously that day. She pulled a fast one over on two men he couldn't stand, and she lied to do it.

Now, she lied again, and she did it to make sure that he stopped lying, and he thought that was somewhat sweet, in a twisted, illogical, way. He respected her even more, even though he could tell she had mixed feelings. Poor thing didn't like lying. She wanted to tell Draco the truth, he could tell. He didn't want her to tell him the truth, because the REAL TRUTH was that he wanted to stop lying to her, and this gave him the perfect excuse to do so.

In addition, he would have something over her, which was a plus.

He decided to wait to bring it up again, but bring it up again, he would do.

The yacht took off on its journey; he took her on a small tour of the massive boat. It was beautiful. Hermione didn't really like boats, on the whole, but this was more like a hotel on water. He showed her to a stateroom, and told her to change into her bathing suit. She said, "How do you know I brought one with me?"

"Fine, nude will do as well, but join me on the second deck in five minutes. He pushed her into the room, and shut the door. She could hear him laughing. She changed into her bathing suit, put a wrap around her hips, and with her sunglasses in one hand, a book in the other, and a towel under her arm, she went above deck, and then climbed the steps to the second deck.

He sat in a lounge chair, waiting for her. He had on long, black trunks and a white t-shirt. He looked disappointed as she approached. "A book?" he asked. "Do you think my company so mundane that you'll need a book?"

"I thought you were going to say something sarcastic about my one-piece bathing suit," she concluded.

"Hell, Granger, I would expect you to wear a white, one-piece, virginal bathing suit, but you will not have a chance to read a book." He stood up, took her paperback from her, and threw it overboard.

"Malfoy!" she shrieked. "I haven't even had a chance to read that yet!"

"Then you aren't missing anything," he retorted.

She sat in the chair he abandoned, and said, "I'm taking the good chair, then."

"What makes that the good chair?" he asked.

She shrugged. She took the wrap off her legs and put the head of the chair back as far as it would go. He looked over her body. Even in a one-piece bathing suit, he felt intense desire for her. She looked beautiful, sensual, and he longed for her. She brought him out of his daydream by asking, "Do you have any sunscreen?"

"Hello, remember me? You said I looked like death warmed over, do you recall that? I have sun block, sweet Granger." He went over to a canvas bag and retrieved some sun block. She held out her hand. He said, "Let me get your back."

"I can get it," she reasoned.

"Are you a contortionist now?" he asked. To her surprise, he pushed the back of her chair up to a seated position, threw one leg over the side, and sat down behind her, so that his front was facing her back, and his legs were on both sides of hers. He had his feet flat on the ground, and the bottle of lotion in his hands. She was alarmed at first, but when she felt his hands start to rub the lotion into her shoulders, she had to admit it felt very nice. She lifted her hair.

When she lifted her hair, she lifted her breasts, naturally. He continued to rub her shoulders and back, but he peered down to look at the lovely slopes of her breasts. He had to admit, she had a wonderful body. He had noticed that a lot this weekend. He hoped before the weekend was through, he would have a chance to admire it more leisurely. He swallowed hard, because he was trying NOT to stare at her breasts, but he couldn't help it. He asked, "Do you have a secret? Something you don't want me to see? Is that why you're wearing the one piece?"

She licked her lips and looked over her shoulder at him. He was so close that she could make out each individual eyelash on his eyes. She had a secret all right, but not about her body. She said, "If I have a secret, it's up to you to find it out."

"Ah," he exclaimed. He leaned forward and said, "Put your arms down, Hermione." She did, and her hair fell, and tickled his nose. He laughed and leaned forward again, as his hands went up and down her arms, rubbing the lotion on them. He was surely going to hell for the lascivious thoughts he was having about her. He wondered what she was thinking.

She was terribly uncomfortable of the fact that her bum was pressed against a certain part of his body. She tried not to focus on that fact. She felt lightheaded, and attributed it to the sun, even though the cause was the man behind her. She thought about the fact that everything was moving so fast, but yet, it felt right. She thought about the fact that she wanted him to kiss her. She thought about buying a two-piece bathing suit, and soon.

His hands continued to roam her body, and not just her skin, but the parts covered by the suit as well. He stopped for a moment, and she missed the contact tremendously, but he had to put some more lotion on his hands. His hands went to her neck, and shoulders. He urged, softly, "Lean against me."

Why she was so recklessly obeying him, she would never know, but it felt good, nonetheless. She rested her head against his shoulder. She shut her eyes. His right hand rubbed across her left shoulder to her collarbone, and back again, as his left hand went under her breasts, to rest on her stomach. "If you had a two piece on, I could put lotion on your stomach," he said matter of fact.

"Damn one piece," she said. He laughed. He also kissed her ear lightly. She felt the kiss in the pit of her covered-up stomach. His hand went from her neck to move her hair away, and he kissed the side of her neck.

He whispered, "Does that feel good?" He was still kissing her neck, and his hands were rubbing lotion into places that she was sure were in no danger of being burnt. He was rubbing his hand leisurely over her stomach, her sides, under her breasts, and on the tops of her thighs.

She might have moaned, or something embarrassing to that effect. She wasn't sure, because at the precise moment that the sound left her mouth, his hand gently cupped one breast, and his mouth found hers, pushing her head back further into his shoulder. He kissed her hard, and his thumb pressed on the center of her breast.

The sound of their kissing was muted by the sounds of the waves crashing against the sides of the vessel. She arched her back slightly, and he put her entire breast into his hand and kneaded slowly. He wished she wasn't covered up. Her hands reached up behind her to grasp the back of his neck and shoulders.

His whole body wanted her. His mind, heart, soul, all trembled with the worst sort of want. He turned her slightly, so her legs were now on the side of the chair, and she was slightly across his lap. He reached up to her neck, while still kissing her, exploring her, and he untied the sting that held the top of her suit in place.

She reached up to push him away with both hands. The loss of lips on lips made him angry, so he asked, "Why?" She shook her head and reached up to tie her top. He understood. It wasn't the time or place. She wasn't saying no, she was saying, not now.

He smiled and said, "Best get up, Granger, or I'll ravish you out here on the top of the deck, for who knows who to see."

She nodded this time, and climbed off his chair. He placed her sarong over his lap, to hide 'his secret' or rather an embarrassing condition, and yelled for a steward to bring them wine, as she scrambled to sit in the chair to his left. Now as they sat in their deck chairs, wine in hand, Draco asked, "Are you happy?"

It seemed like such a small thing to ask, and she had never been on a date where the man asked her if she was happy. They would ask if she was enjoying herself, if she was having a nice time, but no one had ever asked her if she was happy.

She was happy. Draco and Hermione sat on the deck of the massive, white yacht, in matching lounge chairs, and Hermione stretched her arms above her head. She felt contented because they had just had what amounted to more than a nice kiss, she found the man beside her interesting, handsome, and not too annoying, and most of all, it seemed that Draco had totally forgotten about the fake spell. She accepted a glass of wine from the steward, and then clanged her glass to his. He smiled at her and she couldn't help but smile back.

Yes, she was happy because he hadn't asked her to perform her bogus spell again. She didn't know what she would do if he did. She could hardly fault him for lying, if she was prepared to lie. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to think about it right now. She would rather concentrate on having a wonderful day. Lunch was still fifteen minutes away, according to the staff, and the weather was heavenly, the sea calm, and Draco, seemed to have forgotten their challenge, hence, her happiness.

"I'm happy," she answered.

"But you weren't always happy, were you?" he asked as he took a sip of wine.

"In what sense? You mean this weekend, or with my life?" she asked for clarification.

"In general, with life," he asked.

That was an odd question. "I've had a good life so far," she said.

"You always seemed sad in school," he said off handed.

"I wasn't sad," she defended. "I was serious, and studious, and we went through some real horrors, as you know, so life wasn't one long Easter parade, but I was happy," she snapped. Maybe she wasn't happy with his 'happiness question' after all.

"I don't mean to offend you, my Granger," he said. He leaned forward in the deck chair, and placed both his feet on the ground. "I know life was hard for you, doubly hard being a Muggle-born, and being Potter's right hand woman. I know all of that."

"A lot of my anguish in school was because of you," she stated plainly. He frowned and she felt bad for saying it. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry, and I know that you didn't walk around with a smile on your face all the time, either," she pointed out. "You had a lot on your plate, too."

"True."

She turned so her feet were on the floor also, and faced him. "May I ask you something?" Before he could say yes, she continued, "Did you really hate me in school, as much as it seemed."

"Perform your spell," he commanded.

She knew what he was asking, but she feigned innocence. "What spell?"

"The truthfulness spell. If you're going to start asking a bunch of serious questions, I want to ask some, too, and we should have to be truthful," he explained.

"Can't you be truthful without a spell?" she asked.

He laughed and said, "Probably not. Come on, let's get this started." He was prepared to be honest with her, but he wanted assurances that she was going to be honest as well, and he knew if she did her spell, even if it wasn't real, she would feel honour bound to be truthful to him. He didn't want her to hide behind her fears, or insecurities, or her self-righteousness.

She felt like sighing, but instead, she took her wand, tapped his head, said some nonsense words, did the same with herself, and said, "Now, did you hate me as much as it seemed, back when we were in school?"

He knew he wanted to be honest with her on this question. He said, "Yes, I did."

That wasn't what she expected to hear. "Why did you hate me so much? What did I ever do to you?"

"It was more the fact of who you were, and that you were there, and I was brought up to believe that you were below me, and you had no right to be in our world, so yeah, I'm ashamed to admit it, but I really did hate you, to an extent. Let me rephrase that, I didn't hate you as much as I hated what you were and what you stood for, but I think that last year, when you weren't there, was the first year I didn't hate you, and you weren't even there to know that."

"Why didn't you hate me that year?" she asked softly.

He set his wine glass on the table between them and said, "Because you weren't there, although I don't expect that to make sense to you."

No, it didn't make a lot of sense. She didn't like how this was going any better than she liked it when she did it to Harry and Ron all those years ago. She should have let him keep kissing her earlier, and then they wouldn't have to worry about all of this nonsense! She took a large drink of wine and said, "I didn't really hate you."

"You should have, because I was a right bastard to you," he said critically. She turned to look out toward the water. She stood up suddenly and went to the railing. He stayed where he was. "Why did you want to work for me?"

"I didn't want to come work for you, per se, I just felt bored with everything." She pointed out toward the resort and said, "We're so far away."

He was behind her in a flash and said, "We're so far no one could hear you scream."

She giggled and turned toward him. "Why am I screaming?"

"All sorts of reasons." He raised both his brows twice and turned to lean his back against the railing. "Ask me another question, and then we'll go up on the top deck for lunch."

"Why are you suddenly interested in me?" she asked.

He pushed against the railing, and stood in front of her. Her hair whipped around them both. She put a hand over her eyes, to block the bright sun. He reached forward and smoothed down her hair. He wasn't sure he wanted to be honest about this, and since the spell she cast was fake, he wasn't bound to tell the truth. He looked down, and then back up, quickly, and answered, "Because you're pretty."

It was the truth, not the whole truth, and it made him sound shallow, but it was the truth. She stared at him, her mouth partially open. He leaned forward a fraction and kissed her lips softly. He pressed his mouth to hers, their lips the only thing touching, and in a second, it was over.

The steward came and announced lunch.

They ate quietly. She seemed distracted, and he felt restless. He wanted her to ask him more questions, but every time he urged her to ask him something else, she would tell him, "maybe later," or "after lunch". Fine, he would ask her questions.

"Why aren't you married, Granger?"

"I am." She gave him a steady look.

His mouth opened in shock, and wouldn't close. His fork was partway to his mouth, and hung suspended in air. Finally, he asked, "WHAT?"

"His name's Derek. We're on our honeymoon."

He had a shrimp on his fork and he flipped it at her. It landed on her lap. "You're evil sometimes."

"Coming from the King of Evil," she said.

"I'm merely the prince," he said seriously.

"Draco," she said, picking the shrimp off her lap and placing it on her plate, "Why aren't you married."

"I asked you first," he pointed out.

"So, I asked you second," she said. "I'll answer. I'm not married because I've never been asked, nor have I ever asked anyone, and I've never wanted to be, at least, not yet. You now have the floor."

"Same for me. I've never met anyone I want to marry, and I've never been in love," he said.

"You want to marry for love?" she asked.

"Don't you? Just because I'm a bloke, doesn't mean I want less out of a marriage than a woman wants," he said pointedly.

"Understood," she answered quickly.

One of the stewards came up to Draco and said, "There's a man and woman on a dingy, asking for permission to board."

"Tell them to go drown," Draco said seriously.

"It's a Mr. Pucey and a Miss Clearwater," the man said.

Draco looked shocked. "No, no, no, no," he chanted aloud. He stood up, almost knocked over his chair, and said, "Stay here, Hermione. Right here and I'll get rid of them."

"Adrian's here?" she asked, standing up.

Draco put his hands on her shoulders and said, "Sit back down!"

"Why are they here?" she asked. She started to stand again, and he pushed her down a second time.

"They're probably lost," he said. He heard Adrian calling his name. "Stay here," he repeated to Hermione.

He ran down the stairs, went down a metal ladder to the lower deck, and went to the starboard side of the boat. He looked down and saw Adrian and Penelope. "Go away!" he said.

"Malfoy, let us board," Adrian said as he tried to throw up the rope to his boat. Draco refused to catch up.

"Go away!" he said again. Hermione leaned down from the upper deck and waved to Adrian.

Adrian looked up, saw Hermione, waved slightly and said, "What the hell have you done, Malfoy?"

"You're not welcome here!" Draco hissed.

Adrian leaned forward and said, "What's Hermione Granger doing on your boat?"

"I don't know, but if you go away, I go up and find out, and I'll owl you the answer later," Draco said. He took his wand, and with a single flick, the dingy floated slightly away, almost knocking Adrian to his bum.

"MALFOY!" Adrian said.

Hermione was already down on the lower deck when Draco drew his wand. She used her wand to retrieve the boat. It floated back to the yacht and she said to one of the employees, "Please secure Mr. Pucey's boat and help them aboard."

Draco clutched his hands to his side and said, "FINE!" He took Hermione's arm and led her down the narrow side toward the front of the yacht.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"We're going back. Did you have a nice lunch? I did. I'll have the captain prepare a boat to take us back to the docks. Go get your stuff. Don't talk to anyone." He smiled the whole time he barked out his orders. He continued to push her toward the doorway that would lead to the inside of the yacht.

"Why don't you want me to talk to Adrian Pucey?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, Malfoy," Adrian said from behind them. "Why don't you want Miss Granger and me to speak? After all, we do work together. We ALL work together."

Draco grimaced, turned toward the man and said, "Don't you dare say a word." He knew that Adrian knew what he was speaking about, however, Hermione didn't. He turned to her and said, "I forgot that I had invited Adrian and his fiancé to join me on my yacht today. I had no idea that we would extend our…date," he whispered that word to her, "beyond last night."

"Draco Malfoy, are you ashamed that you and I are on a date?" she asked.

He practically stomped his foot and threw a fit when she said the 'D' word in front of Adrian. He pushed her toward the cabin. He knew that Adrian was still right behind them.

Adrian said, "I think I can answer that one, Miss Granger." Draco turned and gave the other man a harsh look.

Hermione said, "Actually, I would like Draco to tell me." She tapped Draco's shoulder.

He turned to face her slowly.

"Answer my question, Draco Malfoy! Are you ashamed to be on a date with me? Remember, you have to tell the truth," she said, her arms folded in front of her.

He really did have pain in his stomach, but not because he thought about lying to her, but because of the thought of telling her the truth. He turned back to Adrian and said, "Why are you alive?" He took Hermione's hand in his, and stormed past the man, up to the upper deck, where they had left their lunch.

He pushed her, not gently, back into her chair and began with, "Okay, Hermione, I have a secret."


	15. Chapter 15 Observations

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 15: Observations:**

Hermione didn't stop running until she was back at the resort, outside the door of her suite. There was no reason to run, because Draco didn't even try to follow her. If he had, she would have turned around, drawn her wand, and hexed him to kingdom come!

The bastard was the biggest liar in the world! The universe! She threw her bag across her room, kicked off her shoes, and then she took her wand and blasted the vase of roses that he got her into tiny, little, microscopic pieces. She sat on her sofa and said a line of expletives, which would have normally made her blush. She hit a pillow and then she cursed again.

Damn him! He played her for a fool! That alone would make her angry, but more than that, he made her fall for him. She might even be in love with him. Damn him!

There was a knock on her door. She turned quickly, wand still in hand, sprang up from the couch and threw the door open. If it was he, she might just have to kill him.

It was Adrian Pucey.

"May we speak?" he asked, his hands rose in the air, in fear.

"Go away," she said, as she tried to close the door.

"Just for a minute?" he insisted. He placed his foot in the doorway.

She nodded and allowed him to enter.

_**Twenty Minutes Earlier:  
**_

Hermione stormed off the upper deck, away from the table, and said, "I've decided that I don't want to know your secret, Malfoy!"

She ran down to the lower deck, with Draco and Adrian hot on her heels. Once there, Draco ushered Hermione into her stateroom, grabbed her wand out of her hand, slammed the door shut, and placed his back against the door, while she tried to push it open.

The whole time she was yelling, "Draco Malfoy let me out of here!"

"Draco, what is she doing here, and what's going on, and why do I have a feeling that something's rotten in Denmark?" Adrian inquired.

"I've never been to Denmark," Draco said flippantly, "and furthermore, I owled you and told you not to come!"

"And why was that?" Adrian asked.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE!" Hermione yelled. She pushed on the door so hard that Draco almost faltered, and he stumbled forward. She almost escaped. He pressed his shoulder hard into the door, slamming it shut again. He pulled out his wand and barred the door shut with magic.

Draco pleaded, "Please, just take Penelope and go to a different country for the weekend."

"A different country?" Adrian rolled his eyes.

"For an hour at the most, and then the yacht is yours, as long as you sail it far, far away," Draco said.

"I'm not stupid, Malfoy!" Adrian said. "I have eyes. I know what's going on here."

Hermione yelled, "I'm not stupid either! Let me out!"

Draco hissed at the man, "Leave!"

"Tell her the truth or I will," Adrian preached.

"What truth? That you're an uptight, son of a bitch?" Draco harped. "What truth do you want me to tell her?"

Hermione spat, "Tell me the truth as to why you locked me in my stateroom, and why you can't say the word 'date' in front of Adrian!"

Adrian put a silencing charm on the door, so they could no longer hear her. Draco assumed the charm went both ways, however, she could still hear them. Moreover, to Adrian, that was the point. He wanted her to hear, because he had observed something from the moment he set foot on the yacht, and that was that Draco Malfoy had undoubtedly lied to Hermione Granger, and he felt it was time she knew the truth.

Adrian pulled on Draco's arm, taking him slightly away from the door and said, "I can only assume that you're here with her this weekend, and you know why that's wrong on so many levels. Does she even know?"

Hermione's ear was pressed against the door. She wondered, 'Do I know what?'

Draco spat, "We aren't together this weekend! Listen, this is easy to explain." He took a pause, prayed to the _god of liars_ for strength and wisdom, drew upon all his experiences with lying, and continued. "Granger told me last week that she was coming here for a blind date this Friday. I was already planning to come check my investment, as you know. I became aware that her date stood her up, so I felt sorry for her and I asked her to eat with me, that's all."

"Why is she here now?" Adrian quizzed. Then he looked shocked and said, "Merlin's pants, tell me you didn't sleep with her! I refuse to have to hire another Director of Marketing, Malfoy! I'll quit myself first!"

"I didn't sleep with her!" Draco practically yelled. He wanted to add, 'at least not yet,' but he didn't. "She wanted to talk to me about starting an internship program, and she was anxious to find out what I thought about it, and how to implement it, so she joined me on the yacht for lunch. That's all. We aren't dating in any sense of the word, but I knew you would get the wrong idea, that's why I owled you not to come."

Draco hadn't owled anyone. He had forgotten that Adrian and Penelope were joining him this weekend. So far, the lies were piling higher and higher, and he wasn't sure he would ever be able to claw his way over the high pile.

Adrian regarded Malfoy for a moment, and then said, "Fine, I believe you," even though he didn't. He took Hermione's wand from Draco's other hand, opened the stateroom door with his own wand, handed her wand back to her and said, "I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions, Hermione. I know your reputation is above reproach, but Draco's reputation in this area is murky at best. We've lost a number of good employees because he's dated them, then tired of them, and either fired them or made them quit."

Hermione wasn't even looking at Adrian. She was staring right at Draco. She was observing the way he was acting. Downcast eyes, body leaning against the wall, refusing to speak to her, in other words, he was guilty as sin. Hermione was having trouble focusing, and her breathing was irregular and shallow.

She walked up to Draco and said, "How's your stomach? Does it hurt at all?"

He looked up quickly. He had just lied, and he suddenly realized that Hermione heard the whole thing. He looked at Adrian and said, "Didn't you put a silencing charm on the door?"

"Yes, because she was screaming so loudly, and I couldn't hear you," Adrian explained.

"But I heard you both just fine," Hermione said softly. She turned to Adrian and said, "Nice to see you again. I'll be back to work on Tuesday, and perhaps we could start on the internship project."

Adrian smiled and nodded. "I look forward to working with you. I was doubtful at first when Malfoy hired you, but I see that it's all going to work out fine. You're trustworthy and above reproach." He laughed and added, "Damn former Gryffindor." He patted her shoulder, and then walked above deck.

Draco said, "May I say something?"

"No, because it will be a lie," she stated. "But you may answer one, which I've already asked once. How is your stomach? You just told a barrelful of lies, and I wondered how you were handling the pain."

"I'm not the only one," he said, although it was without malice. "My stomach was never in danger of pain from your fake, little, truthfulness spell, was it?"

"No, it wasn't," she snapped. "But that doesn't mean it's not in danger from me." She pulled back her arm, and punched him in the gut as hard as she could. He doubled over in pain, and she ran back in the room, grabbed her things, and walked over his doubled-over body, ran above deck, and she disapparated back to the dock.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Now, as she let Adrian Pucey into her room she felt shame, embarrassment, and something akin to guilt. She thought to herself, 'Irony, thy name is Hermione.'

Adrian sat on the sofa, and she sat in a chair beside it. "You were on a date with Malfoy today, weren't you?"

"I wouldn't date Draco Malfoy," she said.

He cocked his head to the side and she said, "Fine, I thought we were, but I don't know what he thought." She sat slightly forward. "I did have a blind date. That much of his story was true, but Malfoy, unbeknownst to me, sabotaged it. He told the man that I cancelled. Then he pretended to be my date, by of course, lying to me."

Adrian grinned and said, "Ah, finally, the truth, because that sounds like Malfoy."

"Then he told everyone we were married, for some reason."

"But of course," the other man said with a laugh. "Still sounds like Malfoy."

"Then he planned a wonderful weekend for us, showed me perhaps the best time of my life, and then he lied to me."

"Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy," Adrian said with a laugh.

She took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. He stood up from the sofa and walked over to the chair, and knelt beside it. "May I say something?"

She merely nodded.

"Are you aware that you signed an employment contract when you started at our company?"

She sat upright. "It's true? Malfoy kept mentioning a damn contract, but I don't remember signing anything! Oh no, does it say that I can't cut my hair?"

He looked at her oddly, stood up and said, "Well, no. If you recall, you were so excited on your first day, that you breezed through all the paperwork, and you didn't read a thing, even though I told you to do so. Then, I gave you copies to read, and you said that you would read them later. You're such a smart woman, that I assumed that you did, but now I see that you didn't."

Hermione stood as well, looked up at the dark-haired man, and asked, "What did I sign?"

"An agreement to work for our company for at least a year, and if you decide to leave before the year's over, you won't seek other employment, and if we fire you, for any reason, you still won't seek other employment, for a year."

"Why would anyone sign something stupid like that?" she asked, shocked. He gave her a small smile, and she said, "Oh, right, me."

"It's our way of protecting our company from espionage, and thrill seekers. Of course, if we fire you, we would pay you compensation." He went over and looked out the window. With his back to her he said, "You also agreed not to date anyone who isn't on your same tier, or level, meaning you can't date anyone under you…"

She finished his sentence…"Or over me?"

He turned to face her and nodded. "Malfoy is as high as it gets, I'm afraid. You see, we've lost so many employees because Draco's dated them, and it's turned sour, or he's had a one night stand with them, or with some of the men it was because he stole their girlfriends, or slept with their wives, so I came up with this. He has to sign each employment contract too, and since it's a wizarding contract, it's very binding. You can't date him, and be employed with us at the same time."

"And if I quit, I can't work _anywhere _for a year, which means I couldn't afford my new car, my new house, or anything," she surmised. "I'd be penniless."

"A word of advice, Hermione," Adrian said, as he started toward her door. "Read all the fine print of everything you sign, and don't fall for a bloke like Malfoy, because he's really not good enough for you. It pains me to say so, but it's the truth." He smiled, held out his hand for her, and after she shook it, he left.

Then she sat on the couch and cried.

When the last of the afternoon light wafted through her opened curtains, and laid in streaks on the carpet of her floor, Hermione finally stood up to get dressed for dinner. The truth was that she had spent one and a half days with the man, and nothing more. She wasn't in a romance. They hadn't had an affair. They had barely kissed. She would get over this.

Her heart wasn't even close to being bruised, let alone broken. She showered, dressed, and then she walked down to the dining room. The truth (if she could recognize it after the haze of lies that threatened to drown her the last 24 hours), was that she had come to this resort with the intention of having ONE blind date on Friday night. She had it.

She had intended to spend Saturday sunbathing, reading, and reflecting. Well, it was Saturday, and she sunbathed, so she would consider that a success, too.

Then, she intended to do something bloody fab, by herself, for her thirtieth birthday, which was now a few hours away. This too, she would do. Her weekend was a critical success, in her opinion.

She was shown a quiet table in the corner of the dining room, and she ordered a salad, the chicken, and some white wine. Then she felt like crying again, for some insane reason. Well, not completely insane. She felt like crying because she observed Draco entering the dining room.

Draco walked into the restaurant, scanned the crown, saw her in the corner, looking sad and forlorn, and he asked the maitre d' to show him to a table beside hers. She observed him enter, and watched as he sat down in a table next to hers, facing her. He unfolded his napkin, and placed it lightly over his lap. He ordered his food and then he stared at her.

She looked away first.

She finally looked up again, and he was still observing her, completely in quiet, but intently. She looked down again.

He sighed. Was it so wrong of him to want to have a nice weekend, with a nice woman? He hated Adrian Pucey sometimes. Hermione wasn't like the other women whom he had dated and then, in Adrian's words, 'ruined for life'. He actually liked Granger. He might like her a lot. Hell, since she had spoiled lying for him, he was going to be truthful, even to himself, and say that he might like her a _whole lot_. Love might be a good word to describe how he felt.

Was that wrong? Was love wrong? Was it wrong to want someone like her? She looked sad. He was the cause of that. He threw his napkin on the table, grabbed his glass of wine, and walked over to her.

She felt him before she saw him. She didn't want to look up, but she finally did. As soon as she looked up, he sat down. She looked back at her lap. What could she say to him? It was partially her fault, for not reading the employment contract, yet he must have known that she hadn't read it, the way he kept referring to it, making jokes about it. It was his fault, too.

"Hermione, how about you look at me, please," he said, exasperated.

Hermione looked up at him. "How about you go back to your table," she responded.

"How about you talk to me first." He sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. He took a big swig of wine and banged the glass hard on the table when he was done.

"How about you go to hell," she said steadily. She took a small sip of wine, and placed it gingerly on the table.

He took her glass of wine, put it on his side of the table, and said, "How about you let me explain."

"How about, no."

"How about you take your wand out of your arse, and listen for just a minute," he said.

"How about another, no, you lying sack of shite," she responded. She leaned forward, grabbed her glass, and down the whole thing in one drink.

"How about this," he said slowly. He motioned for the waiter to bring her more wine and said, "Adrian's gone, so let's finish having the wonderful weekend that I had planned for us, and when we get back to London, we'll sort through this whole mess."

"How about this, instead," she said, as the waiter filled her glass. "I finish with the weekend I had planned, and on Tuesday, we go back to being boss and employee, and I contact the best lawyer I can find to see if I can get out of this bloody contract, so I can find another job, one far, far, from you!" She took another large drink, dribbled some down her chin, and she wiped it with her napkin.

He took her glass again, held it this time, and said, "How about you stop drinking so much, and just let me tell you that I've had the best time of my entire life this weekend, with you." He set her glass down, and grabbed her hand across the table. "I have felt things I've never felt, had more fun than I thought was imaginable, and decided that for once in my sorry existence, that I don't want to lie, cheat, or do any of the other things that previously made me Draco Malfoy. In the space of less than 24 hours, you've made me a better person. You've made me want to be Derek Malone, if that makes sense."

"I've made you want to lie about who you are?" she asked. She left her hand in his. She had decided that she liked it when he held her hand. He rubbed his thumb back and forth across the top of her hand, then in an act of sheer boldness, and he leaned down and kissed the top of it.

"No, that's what I'm trying to tell you. You've made me want to be truthful for the first time in my whole life. Hermione, sometimes people need deception to help them find the truth. You've helped me discover that I really want you. I want everything about you. I want to love you."

She looked at their clasped hands, and said, "How about you hand me a bowl so I can spit up the bile that's in my mouth, because I no longer believe a word you say to me." She stood up, pulled her hand from his, and started out of the dining room, just as the band started to play a song.

He stood up quickly, ran to her as she hit the middle of the room, and he pulled her into his arms, and answered, "How about we dance first?" He held her tightly, so that she couldn't leave. The music played all around them, but he wasn't aware of the outside noise. His heart was thrumming directly to his brain, and was close to bursting. He couldn't let her go. And apparently, for the moment, that was fine with her.

She placed her head on his chest, and she put her arms around his waist. He enclosed his arms around her body, and they barely moved. He kissed the top of her head. To everyone around them, or to anyone who might want to observe them, they would assume that they were two people in love, or perhaps, a young couple on their honeymoon. They could even pass for a couple of their anniversary, or better yet, a couple who had just started dating. In many ways, they were all of the above. For this moment in time, this song, this dance, at this resort, they were together, and if it could not, or would not, extend past this, then that was a shame. It really was.

* * *

_A/N: There probably won't be another chapter before my surgery on Friday. I don't have any of the other ones edited, but hopefully I'll get them to you soon! Thanks for reading and reviewing, it has made me feel better, in a strange way. __**How about**__ that?_


	16. Chapter 16 Blame

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 16: Blame:**

The song ended much too soon for both of them. Hermione looked up at Draco, but he was looking over her shoulder. She looked over her shoulder as well, and saw a frowning Adrian Pucey. She pushed away from Draco and said, "Oh, great."

"Stay here." Draco started toward the other man. Hermione felt confused. Did he literally mean to stay in the middle of the dining room? The song was over, a new one hadn't begun, and everyone was moving back to their tables. She took the initiative, and moved back over to her empty table.

She looked over as the blonde man (she would think of him as exhibit A), talked adamantly to the brunette man (from this time forward known as exhibit B). Exhibit A was swinging his arms around. Now he pointed toward the middle of the room. He frowned, saw that she was back at the table, and pointed there instead. Adrian, or rather, exhibit B, was shaking his head "no" rather emphatically. Now Mr. B was banging on the table. Mr. A laughed and banged on the table and then pointed his finger at B. B stood up, threw up his hands, and yelled, "It's your company, so do what you want!" Mr. B stormed over to Hermione table.

She reached in her pocket, to see if she had her wand. Mr. A, well, she would now go back to calling him Draco, walked up behind Adrian.

Adrian said, "Listen Hermione, Draco just reminded me, less than eloquently I might add that he owns Malfoy International, although I've been with him since the start. He also reminded me that he could fire me if he so desired. I reminded him that he had an example to set to his other employees, and he couldn't do things that he wouldn't let them do. That being said, you have this weekend. That's it. After that, come Tuesday morning, when you come back, other arrangements have to be made, or I'll quit myself. I won't wait to be fired."

Adrian looked back at Draco, who was directly behind him. He said, "I mean it Malfoy. Figure something out that will benefit everyone. If you want to be taken seriously in the business world, you have to start thinking about these things. To have respect, you have to behave respectably."

Hermione was about to protest, when Adrian turned to her and said, "No offense to you, of course, Hermione. I would love to see Draco with someone like you. It would not only help our business, but it would help his soul. You're smart, so perhaps you'll figure something out." He leaned toward her and held out his hand. She shook it. "You have this weekend, use your time well, one way or the other."

Draco sat back down and said, "Charming man, isn't he?"

Hermione answered, "He has a point, and it sounds like he has your best interests at heart, as well as, the interest of your company."

Draco took another drink of wine and said, "Adrian and I had a common interest, or common enemy. We both worked for my father, we were both under appreciated, and in my case, under worked. In Adrian's case under paid, so we started Malfoy International three years ago from the ground up, with nothing, and now it's a viable business. I owe him a lot."

"In other words, goodbye, right?" she asked. She frowned and took a drink of her wine.

"No, Miss 'thinks she knows everything'," he spat. "In other words, you had better think of a way we can keep seeing each other, because I don't want to stop seeing you. I want more than just a weekend together."

His humble, sincere words surprised her. The waiter brought their dinner and Hermione started trying to think of a solution to their problem, but she was coming up short. "I don't have a clue about how to handle this mess. You know, this is your entire fault to begin with, Malfoy." She placed her chin in her hand and took a bite of her chicken.

He laughed and said, "Laying blame, my Granger?"

"Yes, my Malfoy," she mocked. "We wouldn't have this problem if you had been truthful in the beginning. If you hadn't come here, told my date that I had cancelled, and then tried to pass yourself off as my date, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

He let out a little laugh and said, "Your date was going to cancel anyway when he found out who you were, and we would still be in a predicament, sweet one." He took a large bite of his sirloin and explained, "Let me tell you why. The moment I saw you on the elevator at my office, in that too tight skirt, those sexy, red pumps, that lovely shirt, which was a tad too snug, we were destined for trouble, probably even before I stepped on your foot. In all seriousness, I recognized you the moment I stepped on the elevator. I felt something different, something new, which was confirmed last week after the meeting, when I took your hand, and I didn't want to let it go. I decided right there that I wanted to be more than whatever the hell we were."

"So you agree it's your fault?" she asked, dabbing her mouth with her napkin.

"No, I'm saying it's your fault. I didn't dress you that day. I didn't make you all sexy and sweet and pretty. I didn't make you charming and engaging. I didn't make the new Hermione, or the old one. That was your fault, and perhaps your parents, if you think about it." He seemed pleased with his logic. He sat back, and threw his napkin on the table.

"_But_," she pointed out, "if you had been honest with me before I left for my trip, and told me that you found me alluring, and had been **truthful** about the employment contract prohibiting us from dating, we wouldn't have gotten this far." She leaned forward and said softly, "By the way, the word truthful means to tell the truth, in case you didn't know." She seemed equally pleased with her logic.

"_On the other hand_, Granger my love," he expounded, "if you had been truthful, and told me you were coming here for a blasted, blind date, instead of a wedding, I probably would have laughed in your face, and then begged you to go out on a date with me instead. I wouldn't have had to come here to discover your lie. Now, if you had used that massive brain for something other than ways to look sexy, and you had read the employment contract that you signed, I wouldn't have had to explain it to you. See, all…your…fault." He leaned forward, took her fork, which had a large bite of chicken on it, ate the food right off it, and handed it back to her.

"So, your reasoning is if I hadn't accept the blasted date, and I had read the stupid contract, I would have stayed clear of you?" she quizzed.

"Quite right."

"_However_, Draco my debonair boss, again, it all comes back to you." She pushed her plate away and continued. "If you hadn't pursued everything in a skirt up to this point, then Adrian would never have had to come up with such an outlandish contract, and you would be free to pursue me. Your fault." She pointed right at him.

He grabbed her finger, pulled her toward him so that she had to rise from her seat, and he kissed her hand. He let go and asked, "My fault?"

"Basically."

Another song started. He drank the rest of his wine, stood up, and pulled her from her seat with one hand. He led her to the dance floor and said, "Let's have a synopsis of the facts as we know them so far." His hand went to the small of her back, his other hand held her hand to his chest. He looked down at her sweet face and said, "You blame me because I'm a randy little bugger, who finds you incredibly alluring. I manipulated a few things so that I could date you, I told a few lies a couple of times to save you from a disastrous date, and I lied a bit more to show you a good time. Good heavens, Granger, I am a smarmy bastard, aren't I?"

She put her hand on his face, ignored his self-accusation, and said, "_Alternatively_, none of this really would have happened if I hadn't liked you so much, so it's my fault, too. It's still mostly your fault, though."

He laughed and said, "Alternatively, in addition to, on the other hand, and however, if you hadn't decided to have a mid-life crisis at the age of thirty, and if you weren't so damned beautiful," he stopped for a moment and grasped her face in his hands. "And I didn't want you so much," he kissed one cheek, "and I wasn't falling completely head over heels for you," he kissed the other cheek, "I wouldn't have to probably fire you on Tuesday morning." He kissed her mouth softly. He raised his head to look in her eyes again. "You're right; it's mostly your fault."

She looked confused for a moment and said, "I didn't say it was mostly my fault, and wait…you're going to fire me?" She pulled away from him.

He reached for her hand right in the middle of the dance floor and pulled her back into his embrace. She looked flustered and said, "Nevertheless, mid-life crisis at thirty aside, if you hadn't hired a complete air-head before me, who wrote a stupid employment ad that had a stupid line about innovation being your middle name, and if you hadn't fire her before hiring me, you wouldn't be entertaining thoughts about firing me. I don't want to be fired, Draco! I still wouldn't be able to get another job for a year, and no matter how big of a severance package you gave me, I can't afford to be without employment for a year. Also, believe me, if you fire me, I wouldn't be inclined to date you!" Playtime was over, and she was becoming upset. She pulled away from his hand again, and walked outside. He followed.

She leaned over the balustrade and looked out at the lagoon. He skimmed his hand down her back. He wanted her so much. He placed his hand at her side and leaned forward, trapping her between himself and the railing. His voice was low and husky, as he whispered, "May I raise one more argument to our little debate, which might sway you to see the error of your ways, so that you might agree that the blame lies with you?"

She turned. His body pressed against hers as he put his right hand in her hair, at the back of her neck. His left hand skimmed down her face, knuckle side, then her neck, the side of her breast, and finally to her hand. She found speaking difficult, but finally said, "You have five minutes for a final rebuttal. Go."

"Gads, Granger," he started, "If you weren't everything that I ever wanted, and ever needed, I wouldn't be suffering so. If you weren't so beautiful - mind, body and soul, and if you didn't make me believe that there was a different world for me, then I wouldn't have to fire you, but if I can't date you as your boss, then I have no recourse." He leaned forward again, and he pressed his lips to hers. He played with her lips for a moment, as both her hands went to the front of his jacket. She held on for dear life.

He moved his mouth like an expert across her lips, her jaw, and chin, and down to the sensitive spot on her neck. He looked back into her eyes after a moment and said, "I love your sense of humour, your zest for life, your funny expressions, your intelligence, and everything about you." It was as close to an _"I love you,"_ as Draco Malfoy had ever uttered.

"You love my intelligence?" she asked softly.

He laughed a small laugh and said, "Is that all you heard?"

She put her head on his chest, grasped her hands together behind his back and held him tightly. Without looking at him she said, "The blame lies with us both. It's both of our faults, there's no solution, and I don't want to be fired. We'll have this weekend, and then that's it. It has to be, unless you can think of something else."

He smiled and put a hand under her chin. "I have one solution. We've already been playing at it all weekend. What's another few months, or twelve months, even?"

She frowned, held his gaze, and said, "What are you suggesting?"

"It's so simple, I can't believe I didn't think of it before," he said, honestly feeling anxious and excited at the same time. He pulled her away from the open doorway, toward the overlook at the end of the veranda. He held her hands, and in the light of the moon, he said, "Granger, why don't we get married? If we're married, we can date all we want."

She stared at him in shock.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to my new beta for this story: DHLane. Thanks to my other two betas, too, 'justlooney' and 'oliverwoods girl', who's helped me with my other stories. Thanks to mlui for suggesting the marriage part. I originally had Draco suggest something else, but I liked her suggestion that he suggest a fake marriage better. I don't know yet whether Hermione will agree._

_My surgery went okay. I have a four inch incision across my neck, I feel tired and yucky, and I won't have the pathology back for a few days. They removed the tumor and one lymph node. Thank you so much for all of your powerful thoughts, prayers, and good wishes. Thanks!_


	17. Chapter 17 Uncertainty

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 17: Uncertainty:**

What was she doing here? Hermione rolled over in bed, and looked at the opened window. It was a warm evening, and she had the window opened as far as it would go. There was a slight breeze, which stirred the curtains only a smidge. She turned to her back, stared up at the dark ceiling, and sighed. There had to be a better solution to their problem than 'faking' a marriage.

As far as she could tell, the only solution was to end their little rendezvous before they went back. It was the only way. Even marriage, fake or otherwise, wouldn't really save them, because everyone would know that they didn't leave this weekend as man and wife. When they came back and told everyone at his company that they were married, people would speculate that they dated in secret, and someone was bound to challenge the contract.

Hermione threw the sheets off her legs in frustration, and sat up. What would her parents think? Her friends? She couldn't even imagine what Harry Potter would think if she came back from a weekend away, only to say, "Ta da, meet my new hubby, your former enemy, the one, the only, Draco Malfoy!"

He was a lunatic! Even as a joke, to suggest that they pretend to marry in order to date was crazy! And he even said it himself, they would have to pretend for twelve months before she would be free to find other employment. It was way too early in whatever they had to get married! She would never do that.

She stood up and went to her window. She sat on the sill, and looked out at the dark, night sky. Hermione didn't like it when she didn't know what to do.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Draco couldn't sleep at all. He tossed and turned. He finally stood up, left the bedroom, and walked out to the balcony that was at the end of the penthouse suite. The view was the exact replica of the one that overlooked the lagoon from the veranda, where just hours ago, he suggested to Hermione Granger that they forge a marriage so they would be at liberty to date.

It was a wonder that she didn't slap him! At the very least, he expected that. What he never expected in a million years was for her to cry, then turn away from him, and run down the beach toward the sea.

He watched her run away, and he didn't know what to think or feel. Was her hasty retreat a rejection of him, or just her surprise at his suggestion? He didn't stick around to find out. He went back inside, paid their bill, and then he went up to his room, where he remained to this moment.

He sighed out of frustration and went back into his room. At times, he hated his life, and now was one of those times. Why did he always have to screw everything up? What did he expect to happen? He knew how the weekend would have to end when he started it, and he knew that he would have to tell her the truth. Truth. How he rued the word. Lying was the way to go. Lying didn't cause pain. Lying didn't hurt! Lying wasn't wrapped up with problems! Oh, who was he kidding? Lying got him into this mess.

He threw himself on one of the sofas in the main room and closed his eyes. If he was lucky, he could get a couple hours of sleep, and then when morning came, he would go to her, apologize for…well, everything, and then he would beg her to let their weekend continue, no strings attached. Then he would let her decide what happened after that.

He thought there was an easy solution to their problem, but if he suggested it, she would be so offended that he would certainly lose her forever. It was what he wanted to suggest to her before the whole marriage thing spilled out.

He wanted to suggest that she quit her job; they start to see each other and that he would give her plenty of money to live on, until the year was over, and then she could get another job, or start her own business. Nevertheless, she would never do that, because she would say something crazy to the affect of, "I won't be a kept woman." Seriously, her morals were beginning to rub him the wrong way.

This was part of her charm, but of course. Not her morals, but the fact that she irritated him so much.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione decided to shower, even though it was only four o'clock in the morning. Sleep was something she could dream about later. It was already a lost cause. After her shower she dressed and went to the door of her suite when she realized something, today was her birthday. She was thirty years old.

She sat on the couch, eyes wide and thought, 'Thirty-years-old, soon to be unemployed, soon to lose new home and car, and will probably have to move back in with parents!' Maybe they would make her a tiny apartment in their attic. She could get a cat or two. She could be every cliché that anyone ever thought of a thirty-year-old woman who still lived at home. She could start wearing frumpy clothes, gain a couple of stones, and spend each day riding the bus back and forth to the library. Would that be so bad?

OH goodness, yes, it would be bad, for her anyway, that would be bad.

Hermione had been independent almost from the womb. She would not rely on her parents. The only other solution would be to tell Draco that she would continue to see him after he fired her, and ask him to give her enough money to live on, but of course that would make her his mistress, and she was nobody's mistress!

The fake marriage thing was looking better and better. So was saying goodbye to him at the end of the weekend, and continuing with their working relationship only. Which of the two would she pick?

She finally knew what she had to do.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Draco was walking out of the shower in only a towel when he heard a knock on his door. He looked at the clock over the mantle. It was 4:30 in the morning. He swung open the door and saw Hermione. "Granger, what's wrong?"

She had come up here to tell him that it was over, to tell him that she wanted to spend the rest of the day together, have a wonderful birthday, but then after that, it was over. That was what she had planned. Instead, she saw him and knew that was the last thing she wanted. She shook her head and said, "I don't know what to do."

He took her hand; he pulled her into the room, looked out the door for some reason, down one end of the hallway to the other end, and then he closed the door. He said, "May I get dressed?"

She nodded.

He dressed as quickly as he could, the whole time somewhat pleased that she was conflicted as he. Her distress didn't cause him to be pleased, just the thought that she was in a dilemma. It meant she felt the same things for him that he felt for her. It meant she was seriously considering his proposal. His 'fake' marriage proposal.

But then again, who said it had to be a fake proposal?

He walked out of the bedroom, towel drying his hair, and he asked, "So, why are you here so early? I take it you aren't serving me breakfast in bed, since you don't have any food, and you aren't here to give me early morning loving, since you're fully dressed. What do I owe this pleasure? You ran away from me last night, remember?"

She nodded, picked up a book that was on his coffee table, thumbed through the pages, threw it back down, and then stood up so suddenly he was alarmed. He backed away and threw the towel he was holding down on the floor.

"This won't do, Draco!" she said, throwing her hands up in the air.

"Okay." He was frowning, and he approached her slowly. "What won't do?"

"This, whatever we're doing here. I know you were joking when you suggested we marry last night, because what person in their right mind would suggest marriage at this stage?" He pointed his finger toward himself and she said, "Yes, yes, I know, you suggested it, but I asked _what person in their right mind _would suggest it? Listen, after a whole night of pondering our solutions, I see that there's no other answer."

She was rambling. His eyes narrowed and he asked, "Are you saying yes?"

"Yes?" she asked.

"Yes?" he asked back.

"Wait, what?" she asked again.

"I'm confused," he uttered. He pulled on her hand and sat down with her on the sofa. "Start over, without rambling and ranting."

"Okay, listen," she started again, pulling her hand from his. She thought it was better if they didn't touch right now. "I can't marry you, and you know that. We don't know each other well enough, and I know you weren't serious anyway. I couldn't lie to everyone and pretend to be married just so I don't lose my job! Furthermore, I can't go a year without working! That's crazy! Who would sign such a stupid contract?"

This time he pointed at her. She swatted his hand away.

"I know, me," she huffed. "I'll get a lawyer to look at whether I can get out of the contract, but if I can't, I can't go a year without working. I need income. I need independence. My parents would help me, and so would my friends, but I couldn't do that."

"Scratch my other offer off the list, then," he said.

"What other offer?"

"I was going to offer to give you enough money to keep you, or whatever, until you got another job," he said humbly. She looked angry, immediately, and he said, "I know, I know, you would never be a 'kept woman' but I wasn't proposing that. I wouldn't ask for anything in return. I feel this is all my fault and I want to help you. There, I said it. It's my fault." He stood up and walked over to the window. Without looking at her he said, "By the way, the offer of marriage was sincere. I wasn't offering a fake marriage. I didn't want us just to continue with our charade that we started here. I didn't want to lie, as in Heather and Derek. I would really marry you, if you'd like."

He was afraid to turn around and see her expression. He was sure she probably had actual steam rolling out of her ears by now, out of anger and fury.

Imagine his shock when he felt her arms go around his waist. He looked down at her hands. She rested her cheek against his back and said, "That's very sweet, impractical, and crazy, but sweet."

Draco didn't want to turn around. "What are you suggesting, then? What's our solution?" He thought to himself, 'please don't say what I'm afraid you're going to say', but she did.

"After the weekend, we can't see each other any longer, at least, not in the dating sense."

He winced. He thought he might feel actual pain. However, Draco Malfoy was a master manipulator, and liar. He would pretend to agree to her terms. He would turn around, smile, and pledge to give her the best damn birthday a witch had ever had. He would smile; he would tell her everything that she thought she wanted to hear. He would let her go back to work, and let her get comfortable in her perfect little world.

Then he would pounce. He would do little things at first, to let her know how he felt. Little touches, notes, flowers, looks. She would cave. She would see that she wanted him as much as he wanted her. It may take a while, but he would win in the end. Even if it took the whole year, he would then have her sign a new contract, demanding that she date the boss, HE WOULD WIN IN THE END!

Hell, if he could seduce her before the weekend was over, she wouldn't even last until Tuesday. She would beg him to marry her.

"Fine," he said, turning around with a fake smile on his face. He kissed the tip of her nose and said, "I have a great day planned for us, are you prepared?"

"So, this is fine with you?" she asked.

He felt like slapping her senseless; apparently she didn't know him at all, because of course he wasn't fine with all of this. Instead, he continued with his plastic smile and said, "More than fine. It's the right thing to do, and I always strive to do the right thing." That lie was hard, even for him. He felt like throwing up. He continued to smile, in fact, his mouth hurt from the unnatural upward curve. He took her hand. "I do have one request."

"Anything," she said softly.

"We not mention the blasted contract again for the rest of the day, and we continue on as if Adrian never came this weekend. Let's have fun, and enjoy each other's company, okay?" He meant every word of that sentence.

She looked sad to him. Yes, she would be easy to break. She would see the folly of her ways. She would see that her suggestion was crap. She would see that she loved him, because he knew one truth was evident. He loved her. For once, that was the unadulterated truth.

"I agree," she said, with a real smile.

He smiled a real smile, too and said, "You'll let me show you a nice day today, right?"

"Whatever you want," she agreed.

"What if I said I want to go back to bed?" he leered.

She didn't understand, and said, "If you're still tired, I'll come back later."

He grinned, and bit his lip to keep from laughing. He gripped her shoulders, pulled her closer, and said, "What if I wanted to go back to bed, with you?"

"Draco, we aren't having sex this weekend," she warned, shaking a finger at him.

"Who mentioned sex?" he asked. He looked over his shoulder and said, "Show me who mentioned sex and I'll throttle the bloke. I was thinking of sleeping, I swear."

"Behave, okay?" she warned.

"You wouldn't like me if I behaved," he said with a laugh.

"Just because I've never known you to behave, doesn't mean I wouldn't like it," she gleamed.

"You would find me boring, and you know it. You crave my antics." He touched her cheek and said, "You've been boring and good enough for both of us. Thirty years worth of boring and good. It's time to change a few things, and we only have one more day to do it. Remember, you're a new Hermione Granger."

"You don't really know me," she complained.

"And I was just thinking that you don't really know me either, so let's get to know each other," he said. He started to pull her toward the bedroom. She slapped his arm.

"We aren't going to bed!"

"Damn," he said with a small laugh. "Then, if you won't get to know me in the biblical sense, and don't give me that look, I know what the bible is, Granger, then let's get to know each other better in other ways. Let's take a morning walk on the beach."

He held her hand and they started out of his room. He was going to give her the perfect day, and come Tuesday, when she came back to work, he would start his assault. They reached the wrap-around porch, and before they started down the stairs, Draco turned her to look at him.

He reached out with one finger, placed it under the neckline of her blouse, and he pulled her to him. He moved his finger from one edge of the open neckline, down the swell of her breasts, to the top of her cleavage, and back up again to the other side. She watched his finger the entire time. Her knees felt weak, and she had to reach out for him.

He looked at her with darkened eyes, and in a husky voice he said, "By the end of this day, Granger, you will be mine, I promise you. I just thought it would be fair to warn you of my intentions, okay?"

She felt herself melt into his body. His arms went around her and he kissed the space between her eye and her hairline. He continued, "That's my birthday present to you. We will make love by the end of the day, after all, if I have to go back to the real world and you expect me to let go of you, well, I need something to remember this weekend by, don't you think? If I show you a nice day that would be the perfect ending, right?"

She started to protest, but his mouth descended on hers swiftly. Her hands went flat against his chest, as his mouth opened hers. His tongue swiped her lips, inside her mouth and he felt her heaving breasts against his chest. Her arms left his chest to wrap around his waist, his mouth left hers and he waited for her answer.

"We aren't having sex," she finally said, although she didn't put much 'punch' into the statement.

Instead, she swayed into his body, and her arms stayed around his waist. He grinned and said, "No matter." He took her hand again and walked toward the shore, as the sun was trying to rise in the sky.

He would have her by the end of the day, and then hopefully, for the rest of his life. Poor misguided Granger.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to my beta for getting this back to me quickly, and the next chapter is back, too. I have three more done that I will send to her shortly. A special thanks to everyone who has been so supportive, sent out good thoughts, prayers, emails, pm's, mentioned me in their reviews, or just thought about me. I still have no real news, but I see the specialist on the 3rd! Thanks!_


	18. Chapter 18 Competition

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 18: Competition:**

The resort was almost deserted. They crossed the boardwalk to walk along the beach, which was also completely theirs. Draco led Hermione to the bench were on Friday night they shared their first kiss and with her hand tucked neatly inside the crook of his arm, he sat them both down. He pointed to the horizon with his free hand and said, "Just for you, my Granger."

He was speaking of the sunrise, which painted the horizon with orange and pink streaks, below the blue and purple of the night sky. Draco felt the sunset was rather like them: bright, pretty colours, which represented her, coming toward the deep, rich colours, which represent him. They two sets of colours were competing with each other, each trying to claim stake to the day, and come out the winner. Unfortunately, Draco knew that the light colours would win, since dawn was fast approaching. He wondered if that meant that she would win over him. He pushed that thought aside and decided that no matter what, he would have her in the end. He would be triumphant. He would win.

He turned toward her and smiled.

Hermione looked back toward the sea. Draco kept his gaze on her. He said, "You're pretty."

Without looking at him she replied, "So are you."

"I've never been called pretty before." He looked out toward the sea as well, but then said, "But since you're so truthful, I'm sure it true."

"And since you're such a deft liar, I'm sure I'm not," she challenged.

He looked wounded, feigned a frown, and said, "I'm not lying. How dare you; however lying really could solve our problem, if you don't really want to get married."

She stood up and faced him. "That wouldn't be proper."

"Proper?" He said, "Bollocks!" He stood also, and placed his arms around her.

She put her hands over her ears and said with a laugh, "Language such as that on my birthday! The scandal." She turned from his arms and started to run down the beach. He watched her for only a moment, and then he followed. He picked up his pace until he caught her, lifting her off her feet he swung her around as she threw her arms around his neck. He set her back on the ground and bent his head to kiss her. He thought everything seemed perfect until…she pulled away. She seemed sad again. He hated that she was sad on her birthday.

"Are you sad that you're so old?" he asked with amusement, taking her hand again and walking along the shoreline.

"No."

"Are you sad that I'm leaving tonight?"

"No." That one was slightly true, but that wasn't why she was sad at the moment.

"Are you sad that you have sand in your shoes?"

She pointed at him and jokingly said, "That's it." She tried to smile, although she truly did feel sad, and for many reasons.

He turned to walk backwards, still towing her along and said, "The only solution is to take off all your clothes." He seemed serious.

"I could just take off my shoes," she answered plainly.

"But, if you take off all your clothes, I could see you naked, which would be a plus, and also, when we make love on the beach, you won't worry about getting sand in your clothes." He grinned at her and said, "I'm really only thinking of your wellbeing."

"We aren't making love on the beach," she reprimanded.

"The room will be fine, then," he stated back.

"We aren't making love anywhere. That will only complicate matters," she complained.

"If you recall," he began, still walking backwards in front of her, "I started Friday night by saying that you would have a date with me. You said you wouldn't. You did. I won. Then yesterday, I told you that by the end of the day, you would kiss me. You said, 'no kisses, they'll make me worry,' or some such nonsense. Well, you kissed me several times yesterday. I won. Two for me, none for you. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"I see your logic, but I want you to know, if I really wanted to, I would win. I'm very competitive, and when I set my mind to something, I can't be easily swayed," she argued.

"All I have to say to that is - bollocks!" He turned back around and stopped them both when they reached a blanket, with a picnic basket, a short distance beyond a small, rocky cove, which jetted out beyond the main beach.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Breakfast." He let her hand drop to step over a large rock, but then turned to offer it to her again as she crossed.

"When did you plan this?" she asked.

"Last night, after you ran off like a mad woman." They both stretched out, and ate, until they were full and tired. He lay back on the blanket, and she soon reclined by him, placing her head on his full stomach. He absentmindedly began to stroke her hair. It was strange how comfortable they were already around each other. The morning sun had now pushed the remaining night completely to the other side of the earth, and people were starting to impede on their solitude, as the boardwalk and beach began to fill with trespassers.

"I think I could take a nap," she said.

"No, we have other things planned." He pushed her away from him, although he really wanted to pull her to him. He actually pushed her completely off the blanket.

"Hey!" she exclaimed from her place on the sand. He packed up the things, and then pointed his wand toward the basket and it disappeared. She brushed herself off, stood up, and said, "What now?"

He didn't answer right away, since he really didn't have anything planned. Instead, he guided her along the boardwalk. They came upon a sign stating that there was a sandcastle contest. He pointed, smiled, and said, "I thought we could enter into a sandcastle contest, but as a married couple. Are you up for a few more lies?" he asked.

"Why as a married couple?" she prodded.

He had no answer. He just thought it would be fun. He shrugged and said, "If we enter individually, you might win, and I would be embarrassed and devastated to be beaten by a woman." He said it perfectly serious, and once again, she didn't know if he was lying or not, so she glared at him. "Are you good at building sandcastles?"

"I've never built one, but I'm good at everything," she said, as they picked up the pace and headed toward the open beach, where everyone had started their castles.

"And humble, and self-effacing, apparently," he joked.

"And competitive, and I want to beat you so badly right now that I can't stand it, so you better get to work," she answered as she sat on the ground.

He plopped on the ground beside her. A witch with a clipboard asked them their names, and before she could answer he said, "Derek and Heather Malone. We will be entering together."

"No, we will be entering separately, sweetheart," Hermione said. She looked at the witch and said, "What do I get when I win?"

The prizes were merely ribbons, but Hermione was driven to win first prize! After an hour in the hot sun, and with the aid of magic, everyone had wonderful, ornate, intricate castles of every shape and size littered all around the beach. Hermione decided to build Hogwarts. She was roasting in the hot sun, sweat pouring off her, and she was working solo, as Draco was merely resting beside her. Every time she asked him to help, he said, "No, no, you wanted to do it on your own."

Hermione had just finished the long suspension bridge, when Draco said, "Wouldn't it be a shame if a giant came long and smashed your little castle all to bits."

"If a giant came along and did that, I would have to castrate him or something," she said, not looking up from her toil.

"That's a bit extreme," he muttered. Draco merely sat beside her, watching, playing lightly in the sand.

"You better get to work, Derek. Your sandcastle is more like a sand tent," he heard a man behind him say. Draco had been making a pile of sand, and at that moment, he looked up and saw Mr. Johnson, from yesterday. "Your dear wife is going to beat you."

Draco leaned down on his side, propped his head on his arm and answered, "I'm used to her beating me. She's better at everything."

"Not everything," she said, looking at the older man. "He's a better liar than me."

Draco wasn't sure that assessment was true any longer. He was certain she was becoming the better liar, if she seriously thought she could convince him that she could walk away from their relationship at the end of the weekend. He said, "I don't know, Heather, I think you're quite the little liar, if you think you can convince me that I'm not going to come out the winner by the end of the day."

Hermione stared at him and then glowered. When Draco went to sit up, he purposely kicked at one of her turrets, and watched as it crumbled to the ground. Hermione gasped, and Draco grinned. "Oops," he uttered.

She threw herself on top of him and beat his chest with her fists, but lightly. "You did that on purpose!"

"You weren't going to win anyway; I mean, look at all of the other castles. Yours is pitiful," he said, although it was a lie. He was beginning to think she really _was _good at everything.

She was still lying on top of him, but she turned her head to the left, and then to the right. Hers wasn't as paltry as some of the competition. She looked down into his eyes. His arms were around her, one lightly resting across her bum, one on her back. She did what seemed natural. She leaned down and kissed his lips lightly.

"Okay, let me up now, I have to get back to work" she said.

"Another kiss, please, or the giant might return and destroy the whole thing. I think I see Hagrid staggering about somewhere," he joked.

"People are around."

"I don't want you to kiss them, just me. Another kiss, please."

Mr. Johnson leaned over the pair and said, "Kiss him, Heather, and then get back to work on your castle. I bet on yours to come in third place."

She kissed Draco quickly, smacked his chest, and sat up. "Third place, my foot," she said to herself. "I'm going to win this thing."

Draco leaned over her as she rebuilt the turret and he said, "Your castle does look a bit like Hogwarts."

"It is, at least the way I remember it from when we were in school," she said brightly. She pointed to a tower that he hadn't destroyed and said, "That's Gryffindor tower."

He pretended to peer into one of the little windows she etched out of the sand and he said, "Is this your room. Is little Hermione undressing in there?"

She laughed and said, "No, little Ron and little Hermione are probably snogging in there."

He had a look of utter disgust on his face, looked at her, and then smashed the tower with his hand.

"DRACO!" she yelped.

"Sorry, I hope I only killed Weasley. I hope little Hermione came out unscathed."

Hermione started to dig a hole in the sand and he asked, "Are you digging a hole to bury me?"

"No," she stated. "I'm digging around the dungeons looking for little Draco, my dear. Once I find him, I am going to castrate both him and the mean giant."

He pointed to one of the other towers and said, "I'm in the Astronomy tower making out with one of the pretty Ravenclaws. I always liked them best. Smart, pretty, and able to do wonderful contraception spells."

She gave him a dirty look and then she smashed that tower herself.

Mr. Johnson called out to his wife and said, "I believe I bet on the wrong castle. The Malones are destroying it!"

Hermione said, "Well, over there's the Quidditch pitch and oh yes, I see little Harry Potter beating you to catch the snitch, but of course. That's so sad; you never won anything, did you?"

"I know something I'm going to win," he said under his breath. He stood up and plopped right down on the Quidditch pitch she had erected. She started to laugh. There wasn't much of her castle left. From his place on the ground, Draco pointed and asked, "Is that the Great Hall?"

He crawled over to it and she blocked him with her body, while on her knees, and said, "Don't destroy anymore. I worked hard on that part."

"Where's little Hermione now?" he asked.

"She's over there," and she pointed to a different part of the castle, "in the library." She thought he would destroy that part, if she said she was there.

"Then it shouldn't hurt her if I do this." He stood up and stomped on the Great Hall.

Hermione knew she should be angry, because she had spent over an hour in the hot sun, building this castle, with the help of magic of course, but she was having fun. She stood up too and said, "I see little Hermione now, by the Lake. She's snogging Victor Krum, who came up for a visit."

"Ugh, I always hated that Bulgarian, no neck, Neanderthal," Draco proclaimed. He stepped toward the 'lake' but she blocked him, laughing. He picked up her, to her surprise, threw her over his shoulder, and went toward the ocean.

"Speaking of Neanderthals! Put me down, Draco!"

"I will, once I get to the water," he answered. He patted her bum. The water began to lap around his calves, and he moved her from his shoulder to his arms. He started to heave her into the water, but she held onto his neck.

"If I go in, you go with me," she said, holding tight.

He sighed. "Is everything in life a competition with you? Can't you just let me win at something? Just let me throw you in the water, my Granger!"

She shook her head no.

Instead of throwing her in, he kept her in his arms and started to walk out of the water. She relaxed her grasp around his neck. That was when he turned suddenly and threw her right in the water. He muttered, "Never trust a former Slytherin, my dear."

She sat there, waves crashing all around her, and she was shocked! She looked up at him, but he was looking over at her castle. He laughed and said, "Hey, Hermione, they just awarded the prizes. They put a ribbon on yours."

She got up on her knees, held onto his legs, and peered around him. She said, "What did I get?"

He took his wand from his pocket and accio the little ribbon to his hand. He read it and then looked down at her. He threw his head back and laughed. He said, "You got 'best ruins'," and he handed her the black ribbon and he couldn't stop laughing.

She looked down at the black ribbon proudly and said, "At least I got a ribbon. I need something to help me remember this weekend." He reached down and hoisted her up by her arm. He pulled her into his embrace.

"You mean that ribbon is the only thing that will make you remember this weekend?" He looked at her with a small smile.

She swallowed hard, because his smile vanished and he looked at her with unmistakable desire. He leaned down and kissed her lips and then his mouth made a trip to her ear, where he said, "If you make love to me tonight, I guarantee you'll remember it."

"No." She pushed him away. It wasn't that she didn't want him as much as he wanted her, but she knew that would be too painful. If they made love, she could never let him go. "I would never be able to look upon this weekend with fondness and happiness, because if we do that, I would be too sad that we couldn't continue our relationship." She moved from his arms and then held out her hand to him. "What else do you have planned for my birthday?"

The only thing he had really planned in his mind was to make love to her tonight. He opened his mouth to tell her so, but then he decided to let the day pass by naturally. He knew that by the end of the day, she would want him as much as he wanted her. Hell, she probably already wanted him. She was letting her head rule her heart again. She was also being a fool in his opinion, but he didn't think it would be nice to call her a fool on her birthday.

They walked silently along the beach, and she said, "I'm soaking wet."

"Let's get into some dry clothes, and then I really do have something else planned." He didn't. He hadn't planned any of this so far, and yet, everything was coming together so nicely, as if it was planned. He led her up to the resort, and when they stood outside her door, he said, "Wear something nice. A pretty dress, and I'll be back to pick you up in an hour."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Hell if he knew. He said, "Let it be a surprise." He started to walk away, turned back, and grinned. She gave him a pleading look. He felt unsteady for only a fraction of a second, and before he could say anything to her, she took two steps toward him, clasped his shoulders with her hands, got up on her tiptoes, and pressed her mouth to his. She felt him shudder slightly, and wondered why, but only for a moment, and then she knew why.

He grabbed her and pushed her roughly up to her door. He pressed her back against the wood as he responded to her kiss. Her head fell back against the door as his mouth traveled down the hollow of her neck, licking, nipping, and kissing along the way. His tongue stroked the sensitive pulse point, and then he kissed the same spot, as his thumb stroked her lip.

He looked down at her, and saw that her expression was a combination of confusion and confliction. "Give in, Hermione," he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her again.

"No," she said.

He let her go suddenly and said, "You spout that word entirely too much, Granger, and let me just say this: YOU KISSED ME THIS TIME! Don't start something you can't finish!" Fine he thought. Just fine! He turned to go and called over his shoulder, "I'll still be back in an hour, so you better be dressed and ready for me!"

He now had something wonderful planned. Something even Hermione Granger couldn't say NO to, even if she tried.


	19. Chapter 19 Obtuse

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 19: Obtuse:**

Hermione blew dry her hair, fixed her makeup and then looked at the limited amount of clothing she had brought with her this weekend. He told her to dress nicely, but she had only brought one dress with her this weekend, the one that she was going to wear to her blind date Friday night. She ended up not wearing it, because she wore the one he bought her instead. She assumed that this dress would be appropriate for today, and for wherever and whatever he had planned.

He said he was picking her up in an hour, and the hour would be up in ten minutes, so she had no other options. She felt it was more of a formal dress, for an evening out, and it wasn't yet noon, but she would wear it anyway. She looked at the cream coloured dress, with the tight bodice, thin shoulder straps, low halter-style neckline, plunging back, pleated skirt, and she had no choice but to put it on. She had brought it originally because it was roughly the colour of a white rose. Speaking of which, she called down to the desk and asked them to send her up another single white rose. She would wear it somewhere on her person.

She passed by the suite's door in only her knickers and shoes, sans stockings and bra, when she heard a knock on the door. She opened it hesitantly, and peered out, not knowing if it was Draco, a few minutes early or the bellhop with her rose.

It was both. Draco stood outside the door with a single white rose in his hand. He had on a cream coloured suit, and a black bow tie. How odd. Their outfits matched in colour almost exactly. They would look perfect together. How did he know? She said, "Is the rose for me?"

"No, it's for my boutonnière," he answered honestly. He broke off the stem and placed it in his buttonhole. Just as he did so, a bellhop brought up a single white rose. Draco smiled, took it from him, and handed him a tip. He passed it to her, through the narrow opening of the door. "Great minds think alike," Draco spouted.

"And in this case, even we did," she said back. He was sure there was an insult directed at him somewhere in her little comment, but he didn't care. She started to shut the door, but he held it open with his hand.

"Let me in," he said.

"I have to finish dressing." She remained hiding behind the door.

"I'll help, I have very nimble fingers. I can do up the zip or buttons, or align your stockings, all sorts of things," he uttered from the hallway, hand still on the door.

"I'm not wearing stockings, and I can get the zipper fine, thanks," she said. She pushed on the door.

"I can adjust your bra straps," he said. "Make your cleavage look nice and full."

"I'm not wearing a bra. The dress is cut too low in the back." He made a sort of moaning sound. She looked out the crack at him and then said, "Are you ever serious?"

"I'm being very serious right now," he said. He looked it, which in and of itself worried her a bit. She pushed on the door again, to try to shut it, but he continued to block it from shutting.

"Just wait out there for me," she pleaded.

"I could make sure you don't have panty lines," he said.

She frowned, looked out the narrow crack in the doorway again and said, "The skirt is full, so it won't show my panty line."

"I was hoping you would say that you aren't wearing panties," he said with a smile.

"Oh, you," was her best response. She managed to slam the door shut. Draco stood on the other side of the door, his hands flat on the panels, his forehead touching the cool wood, and he tried to imagine her body. He had seen a bit of it, but not enough.

He imagined her strong but slender arms, her long, tanned legs, her full, round breasts. He wondered what colour and shape her nipples were. As soon as he had that thought, he grew hard with want. He was torturing himself, but he couldn't stop. He heaved a heavy sigh, and let his imagination continue. He wondered if her belly was as flat as it seemed in that one-piece bathing suit. He liked a flat belly, with full hips. What could he say? He liked a woman with a nice body. Her skin was almost the colour of ivory. Her lips were the colour of a pink rose. He banged his head twice on the outside of the door and actually said, "You're killing me Hermione."

She heard every word.

Unknown to him, she was on the other side of the door. The thought that she was naked, and he was out in the hall speaking to her, with nothing between them but a two-inch door, which he could easily open if he wanted, made her warm with desire. It started as a faint stirring, and became steady and strong. She actually pressed her body against the wood as soon as she shut the door, wondering if he was still close to the other side. Her nipples rubbed against the smooth grain of the wood, and she imagined it was his hands bringing her nipples to rigid peaks. Her sensitive skin grew tingling as she closed her eyes, and imagined his hands roaming her body. She remembered his nice body, from yesterday at the spa, and she wondered what it would feel like pressed against hers. She almost felt perverse, but she was safe in the confines of her room, with nobody to see or her judge her, when she heard what sounded like two knocks, and then Draco saying, "You're killing me Hermione."

Her eyes flew open, she snapped to attention, and asked aloud, "What did you say?"

Draco jumped back from the door. Oh, Merlin help him! She heard him. She was still standing on the other side of the door. He almost felt guilty for something he imagined, and couldn't even act on, but then he realized that she didn't know what was going on in his imagination, and inside his pants, unless…no, she was too 'good' to be thinking the same things he was thinking.

He heard her say again, "Draco, did you say something?"

"Why aren't you dressed yet?" That was the best response he could muster.

"Did you say my name?" she asked.

"Are you still naked?" he asked hoarsely. He leaned against the door again.

Hermione leaned one shoulder against the wood, looked down and said, "I have on two shoes and a pair of light blue lace knickers." She wondered what he would say now.

He was silent. He was truly without words. He couldn't even swallow. He asked, "Are you going to get dressed?"

Suddenly, she felt wicked. It was as if the door was protecting her from not only him, but from her goody-two-shoe ways. Also, he had already given her fair warning that he was going to try to seduce her before the day was over, and she decided to make it hard for him, by making it seem easy. She couldn't contain the giddiness she felt at the prospect of torturing him, just a bit. After all, she was a healthy woman, and she wanted him as much as he wanted her, but she just had more sense than he did. She knew that sex would be an unnecessary complication to their already complicated dilemma. That didn't mean that she couldn't have fun at his expense.

She leaned against the door and said, "Maybe I like what I have on, or should I say, what I don't have on. Maybe I want to spend the day as I am. On the other hand, I might take everything off, would you like that? When I think about it, I probably wouldn't need knickers on under my dress. Do you think I should go without them? Would that be," she paused, and added, "wicked of me?"

He banged his head on the door again. She smiled. "Did you knock?" she asked.

"Get dressed!" he snapped. He was decidedly uncomfortable.

"You know, it's very warm for September. I'm just standing here, NAKED, thinking that it's too HOT to get dressed. I think I'll stay NAKED for a while longer. You don't mind if I stay NAKED, do you?" She emphasized the word naked each time she said it. She almost laughed at herself, realizing that she didn't know how to be sexy. Surely, sexy people didn't have to keep going around saying the word, 'naked'.

However, to Draco, hearing the word, 'naked' coming out of her mouth, when he knew that she really was almost naked, made him terribly uncomfortable. In a good way, which was bad, because he was standing in the hallway, instead of in there with her, and anyone could pass by and see him, and he couldn't do anything about it. "Granger, I hate you."

"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh. "I was trying to be sexy, and I know it didn't work. I'm just not that way, I guess. I thought that you would think about my body, and my being almost naked, and I thought it would turn you on or something, if I talked sexy and all. Silly, huh?" She was ready to give up her scheme, when he said something that made her angry.

"Oh, my Granger, you're so obtuse."

She was sexy and obtuse, a lethal combination in Draco's opinion. He walked away from the door, leaned against the far wall, and slid down to sit on the floor.

Hermione would show him obtuse. She said, "Draco?" She had no idea he wasn't still in front of the door.

He felt like crying. "Please," he moaned, "just get dressed."

"Are you okay?" The concern in her voice was evident and real. She wondered for a moment why his voice sounded suddenly farther away. "Draco?" She opened the door just a bit again. She saw him on the floor. "What's wrong?" she urged. She started out of the room, with just her arms around her chest. He put his arms up, to ward her off; however, the thought that her arms were the only thing keeping him from seeing her breasts caused a true agony to spread from his groin to every muscle in his body.

She reached out for him with one arm, which meant only one was covering her, and she bent down, and he could see the swell of breast above and below her arm, and he almost cried out. In fact, he said, "Don't touch me!"

A man started down the hall and said, "Nice coloured knickers, lass." Draco told the man to sod off as she ran back into her room. She saw the towel she had earlier, grabbed it, but didn't even bother to slip it on, instead opting to put it over her chest, and she ran back out into the hall.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong? Are you ill?" she quizzed, as she went down on her knees.

He looked at her as she knelt beside him. He could see her perfect long legs, her nice, full hips, her soft, silky shoulders, her side, her arms, her neck…even mundane body parts were causing him anguish. "Granger, please, you are literally killing me." He slumped over, leaning on one arm, which was keeping him from toppling over completely on the floor.

"Draco!" she shouted. "I don't know what's wrong with you, but are you ill?" Hermione stood up and saw a passing bellhop. She said, "Please help me. Something's wrong with my friend."

The bellhop looked Hermione up and down, leered at her, and then looked down at the angry face of Draco Malfoy. The boy immediately knew nothing was wrong with the man, but he said, "Sir, do you need assistance?"

"Ice water," Draco said with a laugh, "right down my pants, and clothing for my companion." The boy laughed and walked away. Hermione started to run after him. Draco looked up at her as she ran. Her lace blue knickers were the only thing covering her heart-shaped bum, and the realization that besides these knickers, and two shoes, and one small towel (he assumed she was still holding the towel in front of her), she was completed, and utterly nude, made him wince once more.

"GRANGER!" he yelled. He sat back up. "GO GET DRESSED, for the love of everything holy!"

She ran back to him, leaned down, and said, "Let me help you up."

"You've helped me up enough," he said cryptically. "Please, if you have an ounce of feelings for me, go get dressed." He was practically begging.

She frowned and said, "I was just worried about you." She looked hurt, but she walked back in the room and slammed the door shut. Then she threw the towel on the floor and smiled. She knew exactly what she was doing. "And he thought I was the _obtuse _one," she said aloud with a laugh. HA! She walked over to slip her dress on and said, "He might win the battle, but I'm going to win the war."


	20. Chapter 20 Force

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 20: Force:**

Hermione opened the door to her suite ten minutes later and smiled. Then she frowned. Where did he go? She looked down the hallway, to the left, to the right, and said, in a confused, concerned, humbled tone, "Draco?"

The bastard left. Well, she wouldn't let Draco's presence, or lack there of, define her good time today, not on her thirtieth birthday. She would go down to the boardwalk, buy some ice cream, some lunch, some sweets, and then she would buy herself a birthday present. Perhaps a book. Yes, that sounded like a good plan. Still, she wondered where he had gone. Perhaps something really was wrong with him before. Maybe he wasn't just aroused, earlier. Perhaps he really was ill. She wouldn't worry about him (although she knew she would.) She would show him no distress whatsoever, since he apparently didn't show concern for her and her feelings.

Hermione looked down at herself, and though she hated to change clothes, she thought she looked rather nice, she knew she was far too dressed up to go down to the boardwalk. She turned to walk back in her room, but only got as far as turning the knob on the door when she felt something hit her shoulder. She turned around again, saw nothing, and then looked at the ground. There was a piece of parchment on the floor by her feet, folded into a triangle. She unfolded the parchment and read, _**"Meet me by the lifts. D."**_

She smiled, tucked the note in her purse, made sure her flower was safely behind her ear, and she walked to the lifts. He wasn't there. She pushed the button and entered. Perhaps he meant down at the lobby. She exited the lifts, looked around, and still, no Draco Malfoy.

Now, she could become terribly perturbed, perhaps even piqued, and she could try to find him, or she could have fun and just go with the flow, and see what happens. The old Hermione would have picked perturbed and piqued, but she was a new woman, so she decided to walk outside and see if she would be bombarded with more flying triangles.

She walked out to the portico, and an employee asked her if she needed a cab. "I don't know where I'm going," she said, though she felt stupid as soon as she said it.

"Maybe this will help you decide," he said. He handed her another triangle. She smiled, said thank you, and sat on the steps to read.

The note read: "_**How dare you talk to other men when you're on a date with me. I am terrible jealous. To make it up to me, walk to the end of the lane, to the left of the hotel. D."**_

To the right of the grand resort was the beach. To the left were a large car park, and then a little two-lane road that led to the village beyond. The village was a Muggle village, and this resort had a massive concealment charm over it. The road to the village was rather long. Was he perhaps just at the end of the car park, near the entrance of the resort? Because that was as far as she was walking. If he thought she was walking all the way down the lane, he was crazier than a loon.

She hopped down the steps, left the protection of the portico, and went to the end of the car park. The sun was high in the sky, but she wasn't as warm as she was on the beach earlier. It was a nice day for a 'small' walk. She walked to the entrance, where the sign to the resort acted as an archway over the entrance. She looked at the two-lane road before her. She really didn't even know which way to head. Right or left? She apparated here this weekend, she hadn't driven, so she didn't know the way to the village.

She leaned against the edge of the stone fence that held up the sign at the entrance of the resort. She waited for a triangle to drop out of the sky. She waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, she decided to walk back to the resort. She wasn't angry, she was confused, and still a bit concerned. Maybe she past by a triangle note on the ground on her way to the lane.

She stood back up, when she heard the sounds of car brakes squealing behind her.

She turned and saw a cream colour Rolls Royce. No kidding. She leaned down to look in the window, when the passenger door opened and she heard a familiar voice say, "Get in, Granger."

She got in and he leaned over her and shut her door. As he leaned back up, his arm brushed her breasts, and he smiled at her and said, "Do you need a lift?"

"You're supposed to ask that before the person is safely in the seat, and besides, I don't know where I'm going," she played along.

"Here." He handed her another note, neatly folded into another triangle. She opened the note and read, _**"Will you join me on a tour of an old Muggle cathedral in the village? D."**_

Hermione smiled and asked incredulously, "A Muggle cathedral?"

"I like Muggle things, and believe it or not, I won't burst into flames, or melt, or turn into salt, if I enter a church or cathedral," he waned. She smiled. He added, "I might get a nasty rash or something, but nothing too severe."

"Drive on," she commanded.

He turned to look at her and said, "You look pretty. You really do. I love that dress. We match, did you notice?"

"Yes, that's odd. The car seems to match us, too," she said slowly, while looking around the car. "This is the dress I was going to wear on my date Friday," she explained, smoothing out the skirt.

He said, "I'm glad you didn't waste it on the bugger you had the blind date with, my Granger."

"That bugger happened to have been you, Malfoy," she said with a grin.

"You know what I mean, I meant the real bugger, not the bugger by proxy. It's nicer than the dress I bought you," he said, really believing it. "It's too pretty for a simple blind date. It's pretty enough for a special occasion or something."

"Like a birthday," she said matter of fact.

"Or any special occasion, really," he agreed, "like a birthday, bris, Christmas, May Day, A wedding, anything."

"A bris?" she asked. "Do you know what a bris is?"

"I do, and I know I don't want you to demonstrate, especially as you spouted things about castrating me earlier," he said. He smiled again, reached over for her hand, placed both their hands between them on the seat, and continued to drive.

She thought about the last thing he said. A wedding. They were going to a cathedral, and he mentioned a wedding. A wedding. She looked over at him, nervously, and said, "What are we going to do at the cathedral?"

"Pray," he said.

"What?"

"I'm joking. They give tours. It's very old. It was erected around the time of Henry the Eighth, and it was one of the first cathedrals built for the Church of England. Very old. It has many artifacts and there's an old monastery that has a bunch of dusty old tomes. You like old books, don't you?" Suddenly, he seemed apprehensive and added, "If you want to go somewhere else, I don't mind. This isn't my cup of tea, but I thought you'd like it. It's your birthday, so I'm trying to think of things you would like."

"That's sweet," she said, surprised. Okay, so he wasn't planning a quickie wedding. Anyway, he really couldn't trick her into marrying him, after all, they would need a license, and witnesses, and then there was always the little part where the minister asked the question that deemed the answer of, "I do." If she didn't say, "I do," then she didn't. She smiled and relaxed. She gave his hand a squeeze.

"What's on the agenda after the cathedral?" she asked.

"Worry and wait," he said laughing. He knew that she would. He turned and saw that she was already worrying. "Oh, Granger, don't be so concerned. I wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to do. I promise. Short of taking your wand from you, I'm not sure I could anyway."

"So you wouldn't make me eat radishes? I hate radishes," she stated.

"Who doesn't? And no, I would never force radishes on you," he promised.

She turned in her seat slightly, placed his hand on her lap, while it still encased hers, which he rather liked, and said, "Would you make me sing in public? I had to sing in public once when I was ten. I was horrible. My voice was all shaking, and whiny, and shrill."

"Sort of like it is now," he said, amused. She threw his hand off her lap. She folded her arms in front of her. He put his hand up to her neck, under her hair, and rubbed her neck with his thumb, as his hand rested partly on her neck and shoulder. She actually sighed and hummed.

"That feels nice." She relaxed in his touch and said, "You wouldn't force me to tell you how I lost my virginity, right?"

His brows rose and he quickly looked at her and said, "I wouldn't force you to tell me about it at the cathedral, but I might insist you give me a physical demonstration up in the room later. Relax, Granger. Really, there will be no force used at any time during the day. I might trick you, or coerce, but no forcing, and no deception, at least, none that I'll admit to, okay?"

She was quiet for a moment and then decided just to ask him the thing she really wanted to know. "You wouldn't trick me into getting married if I didn't want to, right?"

He didn't look at her, but the hand on the back of her neck went slightly rigid and then he removed it all together, laughed, and said, "You're a funny little thing."

She had noticed something about him over the last two days. When he lied, which he did so often, his eyes narrowed slightly. He then would smile, often look away, and then he usually said something glib, or try to change the subject. She was beginning to read his body language easily, and she was now more than concerned. She was afraid. He was lying to her! She turned to look out the window, a hitch in her chest. If he sprang a wedding on her, she didn't know what she would do.

"Stop the car, Draco." He kept driving. She turned to look at him and she said calmly, "Would you stop the car for a moment?"

"We must keep driving. We don't want to be late," he said, without looking at her.

"I don't want to go to the cathedral. Let's do something else," she said seriously.

"Well…I don't have any triangles planted anywhere else. Don't you want to read the rest of your notes?" He turned and smiled. He tried to take her hand again, but she resisted.

"Let's go back to the resort. We can go to that museum at the end of the boardwalk, or maybe the little amusement park they have," she stated. She wanted to see how much he 'forced' the issue of the cathedral.

"You'll love the cathedral," he said. "There's beautiful stain glass windows, and artwork by masters, and an old stone tower with a large bell. I've been there before. You won't want to miss it."

She folded her arms in front of her again and said, "You said you wouldn't force me to do anything I didn't want to do, but once again, I guess you lie." He looked over at her and was no longer smiling. Neither was she.

"Why don't you want to go to the cathedral suddenly? I thought you thought it was sweet just ten minutes ago!" he almost shouted.

"Well now I don't! Now I'm slightly concerned that you're planning something devious," she said.

"At a cathedral?" he yelled. "What, do you think I might force a hymn book in your hand and make you sing? Or that I might stick a radish up your nose?"

"You might TRICK me into something!"

"Like what?"

"A wedding!" she yelped.

He opened his mouth to say something, and then stopped. Then he smiled and said, "Well, that's just, absurd, that's what that is. I'm good at skulduggery, but I'm not that good. You're too smart for something like that." He laughed. Then he stopped.

She didn't believe him.

"For God's sake, stop the bloody car!" She was so angry she couldn't see straight.

He looked at her quickly, concerned, and he pulled to the side of the road. She opened the door and ran out of the car, across the road, toward an open meadow. He opened his door and followed. She fell forward on her knees in a field of high grass and she looked as if she was about to be sick. He put his hand on her back. He rubbed her back, and she felt cold and clammy. She had a fine layer of sweat on her skin and she was shaking. He knelt down beside her and put his arm across her shoulders.

He moved in front of her, and cupped her cheek. Forcing her to look at him, he said, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Are you going to lie to me, to force me to marry you in some way? Just tell me outright, because I won't do that, Draco. I won't!"

He swallowed hard. He smiled, narrowed his eyes, and then looked down. He let out a small, fake laugh, and said, "Really, my Granger, do you think I could force you to marry me? Especially by lying? You're much too smart to let me pull something like that over on you, right?"

She pushed him and he landed on his bum. She stood up, pointed her finger at him and said, "You're lying!"


	21. Chapter 21 Acknowledgment

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 21: Acknowledgment:**

Sitting alone in the car while Hermione paced back and forth in the field not far away, Draco closed his eyes, gripped the steering wheel in his hands, and he wondered something: How did she know?

How did she know what he had planned? Hell, he hadn't even known for sure that was what he was going to do until twenty minutes after he had left her at her door to get ready for the date.

He remembered that there was an old cathedral nearby, he contacted a wizard from the resort area who was an officiate, and who could marry them in a hurry, he called in a favour at the Ministry to get a license, and then he dressed and went to her room to collect her.

After he left her to finish dressing, he wrote four notes, she had only gotten three so far, and he borrowed this car (stealing was such a negative word, and seriously, he would return it later, and no one would know), and then he waited for her at the end of the lane.

He played it cool, smiled at her, touched her, turned on the charm, and then she figured it out! Damn, damn, double-effing damn. She was too smart for him that was sure.

She must have figured out he was lying from his body language. He did nothing outwardly to acknowledge what his plans were, so that must have been it. She was starting to know him too well. If he could no longer lie to her that meant one thing and one thing only: they were truly meant to be together. Lying was second nature to him, and it came quite naturally, along with all forms of lying - deception, deceit, embellishment, underhandedness. If he wasn't going to be able to deceive her any longer, he would have to start being truthful and good, which in his mind meant that she was the one he was meant to be with forever.

It almost hurt to come to that conclusion. To acknowledge that from now on, she would always have the upper hand in their relationship, but that was the cold, hard truth in Draco's mind.

Nevertheless, seriously, was it necessary for her to be so dramatic? To storm out of the car, throw herself on the ground, and yell at him? She was on the verge of vomiting, for Merlin's sake! Why did the thought of marrying him make her want to throw up? He tried to deny it when she first accused him, but then she stood up, pointed her hand at him and said, "You're lying!"

She might as well have been a puritan, and he a heretic, or worse, a wizard, because the moment she pointed that finger at him, full of anger and indignation, that was what he imagined. He imagined that she was accusing him of something, and without a doubt, she was. She called him a liar, and liar he definitely was.

She started back toward the car, and he reached in his pocket for the last note. It was still tucked safely inside. Good. He could never give it to her now. She opened the car door, sat down, and slammed it shut, and then said, "Okay, I'm calm now, and I'm no longer upset. I can still have a nice birthday, but first, would you mind driving us back to the resort?"

"I think I would mind it," he answered. She gave him a dirty look and he sneered, "Surely you don't want me to _LIE_ do you?"

"Fine, I'll apparate. If you want to join me, I'll see you later." Her hand went toward the door handle, she tried to open it, and it wouldn't budge. She looked at the lock, it was unlocked, and then she looked at Draco as he was fingering his wand. "You better let me out of here," she warned.

He put his wand away. "Not yet." He wasn't sure what he was going to do. The first thing was to lock the doors with magic, so she couldn't escape. The next thing would be to grab her purse, which he did quickly, so that she couldn't unlock the doors with her wand. He was shocked when she climbed over the front seat and tried one of the back doors. "Give me some credit, Granger. I may be a liar, but I'm not an idiot. I locked them, too, and don't try to apparate away, I've taken care of that as well."

She sat in the corner of the backseat, folded her arms in front of her, and stared out of the window.

"I'll take you back in a while, but I need to think for a moment," he said to appease her.

"Well don't strain yourself," she harped.

He mocked her silently, moving his head back and forth, mouthing the words she had just spoken, and then he felt her slap him upside the back of the head. "Don't make fun of me," she chastised.

He turned to look at her and then he climbed in the backseat with her, much to her surprise, and his vexation. He sat on the opposite side of the backseat and asked, "What's wrong with marrying me?"

She turned her head to stare out the side window again. She couldn't answer that, because she didn't think there would be anything wrong with marrying him, although he would probably irritate her into an early grave. She turned back and said, "You don't know me well enough to marry me."

"This isn't about what I want, because I apparently you don't care what I want, because I want to marry you, so I'll ask again, what's wrong with me?" He asked it so sincerely, she felt distressed.

She didn't want to hurt him, but the truth was, she didn't know for sure if she loved him, but she knew was that she was probably falling in love with him, even though she didn't want to acknowledge that she yet. It was just too soon.

The one thing she was certain of, and could acknowledge, was that she couldn't fully trust him, and that was no basis for a relationship, let alone marriage.

"We don't love each other," she finally said slowly,, not quite answering his question, and certainly not acknowledging her doubts to him.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, so there," he claimed. Now he turned to look out the window. "I know I've never wanted to even think about marriage before now."

Hearing him admit the very sentiment that she couldn't declare, made her feel ashamed. She took a deep breath and said, "You said that you wanted to date me after this weekend, right?"

He looked at her as if she was stupid. "Of course," he answered incredulously.

"And you already made it clear that you want us to sleep together, right?"

"Gee, Granger, your powers of deduction truly amazes me," he said full of disdain. "And it doesn't have to be in that order. We can sleep together and then start to date. Whatever makes you happy." He was back to smiling.

"Draco," she said, placing her hand on his arm. "Those aren't reasons to marry. I won't make a mockery out of marriage, even though that's what we've done all weekend. When and if I marry, it will be for love, companionship, sex, children, friendship, forever and ever. Do you understand?" She scooted closer and said, "Marriage so that you can prove to me that you'll get what you want, for example, sleeping with me tonight, and dating me after we get home, isn't any reason to marry, even if we are starting to be more than fond of each other."

"More than fond?" he asked back, each word dripping with as much sarcasm as he could muster. "I said love, you stupid idiot." He removed her hand from his and pushed her to the other side of the seat. "Do you think you could insult me any more today?" He took his wand and with a flick, he unlocked the doors. He jumped out of the backseat, and got back into the driver's seat. "I'll take you back." He started the car and turned it around as soon as he could, and started back toward the resort.

She sat in the corner of the backseat, huddled almost in a ball, staring out the window. She broke the silence by saying, "You don't love me."

He stopped the car again, so fast, that she wasn't braced for the stop. She flew forward and hit her head the headrest of the front seat. She rubbed her forehead with her hand and before she could berate him, he was outside her door, which he opened quickly, and pulled her roughly out to stand beside him outside the car.

"I love you," he reiterated. His hands grasped her shoulders, and he pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. "Sorry about the head, but maybe it'll knock some sense into you."

She sighed and dropped her head to his chest. He placed his arms around her tightly. "You don't love me," she said again.

"I do." He sighed, an outward sigh. He had never in his life worked as hard to get a woman to want him as hard as he had worked this weekend. Why couldn't she see the effort he was exerting? "Are you that insecure, or that dense? What can I say to convince you? I've worked so hard and diligently this weekend to get you to notice me, and to show you a nice time. I know why I've done it, and I know what I am, and I'm a man in love." As he proclaimed his feelings, she continued to shake her head no. He started to nod his yes. He finally shook her hard. "Stop it!" he shouted. He placed his hands on her head to stop it from moving.

"You lie all the time," she finally concluded.

"Hermione," he said, now fully exasperated, his arms to his sides. "I can't change things. I lie, I cheat, and I even steal. I even stole this car, but I'll return it later." She frowned, looked at the car, and then back at him as he continued. "I am selfish, spoiled, self-centered, sexy, and I love alliteration. " She smiled again. "But you're starting to see through my façade of lies, which means you'll start to see good in me soon, I hope. I want there to be some good inside. I think you bring out the good in me."

He added, "I love you. I do. I'm not good enough for you, and I could say that I don't care if you believe me or not, but I'm not that much of a liar. I do care. What I don't care is what everyone else will think. I don't care if they believe it. I don't care if they gossip when we get back to work. I don't care if anyone understands, or believes us. You're the only one that matters, well, besides me. The way I see it, if we come back as a married couple, no one will challenge the contract, because they'll all assume we were already planning to wed before you were hired, because a smart woman like you would never marry a man she's only reconnected with for a week." He let go of her arm, pulled the last piece of parchment out of his pocket, still neatly in its triangle, and handed it to her.

She didn't know what to say. She fingered the piece of parchment in her hands, moving it around to feel the points, and the flaps, and the truth was, she was afraid to look at it, because she feared that she already knew what it had to say.

He pointed to the note again and explained, "I really think this last note will be a solution to our problem. I think this is a better way of handling things than running away, which is your solution. Ignoring each other at the end of the weekend is paramount to lying, Granger. You thought I was a liar, but you, my dear, are even more of one if that's what you really, really, think will solve things."

They stood by the car and stared at each other for many long minutes. To break the silence that had impeded upon them yet again, and because he felt awkward just standing there, looking at her, he said, "I wasn't going to give you that note until our tour was over, but read it and then give it thought before you answer."


	22. Chapter 22 Overwhelmed

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 22: Overwhelmed: **

She started to open the triangle with fingers that shook so badly she felt immediately overwhelmed. She peered at the words written on the small piece of paper, but then she folded it back up, and placed it in her purse. She took his hand and looked up into his eyes.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

He looked down at her beautiful, brown eyes, which seemed to hold his future so firmly in their depths, certain that he trusted her more than he trusted anyone. He would probably even trust her with his life, so he said, "Not really, but perhaps." He couldn't let on to her how taken by her he was.

"Well, try to trust me, okay, because I'm going to ask you a question, and if you answer truthfully, I'll find a solution to our dilemma, but you have to be truthful for a change. Do you really think you love me?"

He wanted to groan aloud and shake her, because he was tired of talking about the same things, but then he gave that question some serious thought and said, "I might not be in love yet, but I could fall in love with you so easily. I want to fall in love with you, or at least, I want the chance to fall in love, but I don't want you to walk away from me before I find out if what I feel is real and valid."

She grinned and said, "I think you're being truthful for a change. I don't know what I feel for you yet, because frankly, this whole weekend has been a bit overwhelming, but I'd like to get to know you better, too, Draco. I've had the best weekend, and I want it to continue, so since you were honest, let me be honest to you." She brought his hand up to her mouth and kissed the back of it, a gesture that touched him more than he could say. "I think I could easily fall in love with you also. Nevertheless, we can't get married just to date. Give me until the end of the weekend to figure out a solution. I'm smart, and I've gotten myself out of harder situations than this. Let me figure out the answer to our problem, and if, and only if, I can't come to a resolution, then I'll read this note, agreed?"

He laughed and said, "It's actually just my shopping list, anyway."

She gave him a funny look and asked, "Really?" She took it out of her purse and started to open it, but he stopped her.

"I'm joking…NOT LYING, joking, although the note might not say what you think it says. Fine, figure something out, my Granger the Smart, and if you can't come up with something, you must read that note, and give me your answer. I'll give you until Tuesday, agreed?" He cupped her cheek again and then rubbed his thumb back and forth across her lips. "What do you want to do? Go back to the resort, or on to the cathedral?"

"It's my birthday, and I want to have fun, and celebrate, and frankly, the thought of celebrating my one and only thirtieth birthday in an old, musky monastery, with old books, a boring tour, with a bunch of Muggles, is just, well, how do I put this…" she stopped talking.

"Boring, terrifying, mind-numbing, what?' he asked.

"NO, better than I can imagine!" she squealed, pulling on his arm, and leading him toward the car. He frowned. Maybe he didn't want to marry her if she was excited over such boring things as old books and moldy monasteries, but he would go to the boring cathedral with her, even if they weren't getting married, if it meant that she was going to figure out a way for them to continue to see each other.

He held open the passenger door for her and she said, "You didn't really steal this car, did you?" She laughed, because she thought it was funny, until, he didn't answer. "Draco, did you steal this car?"

"Don't worry, my Granger." He ushered her in her seat, and before he shut the door, he said, "I changed the colour, so I doubt anyone will notice, and I'll return it before the owner realizes it gone." He slammed the door shut and came around to sit down beside her. She stared at him, hoping for once this was one of his lies, otherwise, she was accomplice to theft, and even the new Hermione didn't want to spend time in prison, although perhaps only Draco would go to jail. If he did, he wouldn't be president of his company any longer, and she could probably date him. She almost laughed when she thought these things. This might work out after all.

However, when she turned to say as much to him, she noticed that he wasn't even narrowing his eyes, or trying to say anything flippant, so he was telling the truth.

"YOU STOLE THIS CAR?" she shouted.

"Borrowed is a better word," he said. "I have one at home, almost just like this, but I didn't know I would need it, so I BORROWED this one."

"Oh," she said softly. "From a friend?" She thought, 'please, say from a friend.'

"No, I don't rightly know the owner, but he's away on Holiday, so he won't know it's gone," he said, while driving back toward the village.

"How do you know he's on vacation?" Hermione asked.

Draco smiled and said, "When I broke into his house, there was dust all around, and the mail was piled up on the floor by the front door, under the mail chute."

She breathed in quickly and said, "Tell me you at least know what the man looks like, or his name!"

"Of course I do," he said back quickly.

"Oh, good," she sighed.

"I saw a picture of him in his house, and his name was on his mail," he said.

"Draco, are you lying?" she yelled. "You had better be lying!"

"First you say, don't lie, then you say, lie. I can't keep up with you," he said, for once truthfully. He would change the subject, because the whole truthfulness thing was apparently causing her distress, and he felt they had both felt enough distress for one day. "Forget about the car right now. It doesn't matter. Let's just have a nice day and do all sorts of Hermione like things, agreed?"

She nodded and then she felt another smile come to her face when he blindly reached for her hand, held it in his, and then squeezed it tightly.

He looked over at her, saw her large smile, and asked, "Happy?"

"I think I am."

"When you're sure, let me know," he said with a smirk. He released her hand as he turned down another road, but as soon as he could, he reached over for her hand again and said, "Now when we get to the cathedral, act all Muggle like, so we'll blend in. The first time I went there I acted like a Muggle, so I wouldn't stand out in the crowd."

She giggled, thinking he was joking again, but then she saw that he was serious. "Draco Malfoy, whatever do you mean by the phrase, 'act all Muggle like'? Muggles aren't so very different than us."

"Ha!" he laughed. "Yes they really are. They have to do all sorts of things without magic."

"Oh the horrors," Hermione mocked. "There's advantageous, too. For instance, you know that I only use Muggle pens and paper, right, I mean, for goodness sakes, we're wizards, and we write with stupid quills and ink and parchment!"

"Yeah, that one is crap," he laughed, "but, magic is handy in a pinch if you're hungry! If I don't want to get off my bum, and I need a sandwich, I can just flick my wand, and voilà, a sandwich magically appears!"

"Even magic can't make food just appear! In your scenario, a sandwich appears because you yell for your house elf to make you one," she said with disdain. "Who needs magic to do slave things when you have actual slaves?"

"You know, a wife could make a sandwich for me, too. Another reason you should marry me, to make me sandwiches," he said perfectly seriously.

She glared at him. "I will never make you a sandwich." She decided to change the subject. "You know, Muggles have computers. They're quite useful."

"Yes, I've seen them before." He turned down a narrow lane, crossed a bridge, and added, "They're very handy to view porn."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh again. "Yes, I think that's the reason Muggles made them, forget about all of the other useful things you can do with them." She added, "Mobile phones beat floos and owls any day, for communication."

"Apparating trumps everything else," he said.

"True, that's handy, and portkeys are a wonder," she said. "I love being a witch."

"Even without internet porn?" he asked. He turned toward her and was smiling, so she didn't hit him. "I'm glad you're a witch, too."

"Too bad magic can't solve world hunger or health problems, and why is it that we can transfigure a hedgehog into a teacup, but we can't transfigure buttons into galleons? I've never understood that. I mean, I know there are laws to magic, just like laws of physics, and such, but seriously, that one's flawed in my opinion," she stated.

"I believe my great-great granddad made all his money that way," Draco said.

Hermione gasped and said, "He figured out a way to transfigure buttons into galleons?"

"No," Draco began, "he turned hedgehogs into teacups and sold them for a galleon a piece." He laughed at his stupid joke.

"Draco, are you ever serious?" she asked.

"Sometimes I'm too serious. This joyful Draco you see before you is a direct result of being here with you." He had never proclaimed a more honest statement. He pulled along the curb on an old brick lined street, and shut off the engine. He turned toward her and she was staring at him intently.

"That's the nicest thing you could have ever said to me," she concluded. "I think I usually have the opposite affect on people."

He thought it was funny that she would admit that, because he didn't doubt it was true, but for him, she made him feel happy and carefree. He reached over and stroked her cheek. He held her gaze and said, "You do make me happy. I haven't always been the happiest of people you know."

"You make me happy, too. Frustrated sometimes, but happy," she admitted. "Even though I kept spouting off things about being a new Hermione, until this weekend, I was really just the old one wrapped in new paper. This weekend, I've done all sorts of things I wouldn't normally do, and every gut reaction I've had I've had to re-examine, and some of the things I've done have shocked even me."

"Example?" he urged.

She shrugged for a moment, then said, "That first night, it was really hard not to slap your face when I found out about the blind date. My first instinct was to do just that and then run up to my room, pack my bags, and disapparate away. Then after we started eating, and I got all miffed again, and went out on the terrace, I almost left that time, too. And don't get me started on the whole spa thing, because that was so not me," she laughed and said, "and I built a bloody sandcastle, and I didn't even harm you when you wrecked it. I thought it was funny. Me! I wasn't angry or upset!"

"You flew on a broom," he pointed out.

"Yes, I did!" She seemed pleased.

"You lied and had fun while doing it," he added.

"True, under the influence of Draco Malfoy, I have turned to a life of lies, and so what, right?" She smiled back at him.

"You've been a right randy little bugger, kissing me unprovoked, and you're even going to have sex with me tonight, which is so unlike you," he said with a lilt. Before she could dispute that claim, he opened his door and walked around to hers.

"That one's not going to happen," she quipped. In her mind she added, 'not yet.'

"I beg to differ," he said. He placed her hand on his arm, and held it there with his free hand. They began to walk down the sidewalk, and before long, he pointed toward a massive, stone cathedral, still at least a kilometer away, tucked safely in a valley between two hills. "Your birthday awaits, Hermione."

She could barely contain her delight, and she turned to him and said, "Is it okay for the new Hermione to be happy about visiting an old church?"

"Well," he drawled out, "I would rather that the new Hermione be happy that she's spending the day with her new boyfriend, but you can think whatever you'd like. I'll pretend I'm the reason for your joy."

She liked the way that sounded. Her boyfriend. He was her new boyfriend. The thought overwhelmed her yet again. They walked along, and the cogs in her head began to spin overtime, contemplating solutions to their dilemma.

The only viable solution came to her immediately, and she knew it would work like a charm. She wouldn't be totally happy with the solution she came up with, but she would be happy with him, and just as he said that apparition trumps everything Muggle, Draco Malfoy trumped any job, any day.

Yes, the solution was to be fired. If she had to be fired, and take the severance pay, which was almost as much as a year's salary, she would do it. Even if it meant spending a year not working, she thought she could do it, for him. The old Hermione would never consider giving up her dream job, and spending a whole year bored and complacent, but the new Hermione would give it all up for him. She didn't need to read his note. She would tell him her decision on Tuesday morning when she got back to work.

Now she just had to think of a reason for him to fire her.


	23. Chapter 23 Regret

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 23: Regret:**

"_True love never dies, but lives on through the people we love."_

"What?" Draco asked.

Hermione was standing in the gift shoppe of the old cathedral, among the cards, sweets, key chains, postcards, and other things, which seemed dreadfully out of place, and she held up a small plaque. She walked over to him and reread it aloud. _"True love never dies, but lives on through the people we love."_

"That could be your epitaph someday," he said. She looked up at him, with a confused look and he took the small, wooden plaque from her hands and placed it back on a shelf. He said, "Sentimental rubbish, that's what that is." He held up a postcard and said, "Look, how strange, it doesn't move." Then he put it close to her nose, and said, "I can make it move without magic," and he moved it forward, pulled it back, moved it forward, and pulled it back. She finally swatted his hand. He put the postcard back in its holder and said, "Muggle pictures are weird."

"You're weird," she decided.

"Yes, but if you truly love me, and you die, your love will live on through me, so that's a nice thought, isn't it?" he mused, picking up the plaque again and putting IT in front of her face.

"You're insane," she decided. She took the plaque this time and placed it on another shelf.

She grabbed two postcards and a book on the history of the cathedral and took them up to the cashier to pay. Draco pushed her slightly to the side, and took out his wallet, and to her surprise, he paid for them with a credit card. She leaned over to him and whispered, "Another handy Muggle invention: plastic money, also known as credit cards."

He looked down at her with a smile and he put his arm around her and then kissed the top of her head. She took the bag from the cashier and they walked toward the exit.

"Did you have a nice time?" he asked, his arm going around her shoulders.

"You know, I did. It was beautiful, although the gift shoppe is a bit out of place, but I don't begrudge them raising money however they can," she answered. They walked out into the bright sun and she added, "I'm starving. It's after three, and we didn't eat lunch."

"Do you want to go somewhere here in the village to eat?" he asked.

"Can we just go back to the resort and eat in my room?" she asked back.

He tweaked her side, which caused her to squeal and he asked, "Does your room have a bed?"

"Why, are you hungry for a mattress?" she asked as a joke.

"I'm hungry for you," he answered succinctly.

She took his hand, which warmed his heart, and said, "Well, I haven't been sleeping on a chair, so yes, it has a bed, but I merely thought we could eat out on my patio, a late, late lunch, and then we could take a nap."

"A nap?" he asked, shocked. They had reached the edge of the car park and he said, "Are you eighty years old? Do you need a nap?"

"I'm thirty, and yes, I need a nap," she answered back. "I didn't sleep much last night you know, and we both got up so early this morning."

"Will I be joining you in your nap, and more importantly, will the nap at least take place on a bed?" he asked, with a lecherous look.

"I like to nap on the couch," she revealed. He rolled his eyes.

As they walked through the car park, Hermione felt peace and happiness, with her hand in his. She felt relief that she found a solution to her problem, but now she had to find a way to tell him. He was leaving tomorrow morning now (originally he was to leave Sunday night, but he decided to wait until Monday morning), and she was leaving the day after, and come Tuesday she would do something dreadful so that he would fire her, and then they could date with relative ease.

Actually, the whole plan was flawed, she realized. She had been fretting and worrying about it since she thought it up, but once on the tour, and walking among the old church, with Draco by her side, whispering to her, touching her, kissing her hand, making jokes, both lewd and amusing, she soon forgot about those flaws. Thus, the peace and happiness that she had felt just moments ago.

Now, back out in the bright sun, heading toward the little lane that would take them to the car, the peace and happiness she had felt was quickly being overshadowed by fear and regret. She didn't want to be fired. Still, it was a solution.

Silently, they trudge along, still holding hands. He took her bag from her and put it under his arm. She liked this. She liked holding hands with him, and walking in silence, and having it not feel awkward. Who knew that when she came here for the weekend, and for a stupid blind date, she would find love?

There, she admitted it. She was probably falling in love with him. She looked over at him quickly and then turned her gaze just as quickly back to the ground. She was wavering from her earlier decision to be fired so they could date. First, she had never failed at anything in her entire life, except back in school when she had to learn to ride a broom, and divination, but she didn't count those as failures, but more as things she didn't care for, so she didn't care to excel. However, she had never been fired from a job. She liked her job, even though she wasn't completely sure what it was yet. She wanted to work there, even though she had only worked there a week. She was excited to start that internship program. She was excited to try new things, and to see things that she implemented come to fruition, and mean something.

Second, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that if she got fired, just so she could date him, and if she kept that large severance package, then that would made her no better than a mistress, a kept woman. Hadn't he suggested that very thing to her, and she rebuked the whole idea? He had told her that he would give her money and she could start her own business or something, and they would be free to date, and in a year's time, she would be open to find other employment.

She told him that would make her a 'kept woman', i.e. prostitute. How was her solution any different from that? Just because _she_ thought of it? Just because she would have the self-satisfaction of believing that, she was the one that made the sacrifice for him.

He could sense that she was pensive. They reached the car and he threw her small bag in the backseat. He pushed her up against the closed door and said, "What's wrong all of the sudden, and don't say nothing? I know you better than that."

She held her hand over the top of her eyes, to block the afternoon sun. He moved her slightly to the side, so that the light no longer blinded her. He questioned her again, "Really, what's wrong?"

She stared at him and wondered if she could really make this type of sacrifice for him, for them. Her friends, her family, and any prospective employers would perceive her being fired in a very poor light. Even if she told her family and friends the reason, that it was because she was a moron and signed a contract without reading it, then started a fling with the boss, they would still see it as a bad thing. Moreover, it was right that they should. Even if she did nothing truly neglectful to be fired, it would still cast her in a poor light, and her reputation was important to her.

It wouldn't hurt to have a lawyer still look at the contract to see if she could get out of it before she did anything rash, right? Padma Patil was a lawyer. She would try to get out of the contract first. Then, if she couldn't have the contract revoked, she might, no, she would, settle for being fired. Maybe.

"If I quit, I wouldn't get the severance package, right?" she asked, in reference to his question, although her question didn't answer his.

"What are you talking about, Granger?" He had opened her car door, but then shut it again and said, "Wait, is that your solution to our dating? Are you planning on quitting?"

"No," she answered honestly, although she might change her mind.

He glared at her, pointed his finger in her face, and said, "Quitting won't solve our problem! Besides, I thought you didn't want to quit. I thought you wanted to keep working with me." He took her hand, dragged her across the street, and sat her down at a little table at an outdoor bistro. The waiter approached, but Draco immediately rebuffed the man. He pulled his chair directly in front of her, grabbed her hands and said, "Talk."

"Why did you fire my predecessors?"

He shook his head, looked up to the sky for help, found none, and then said, "Adrian fired all of them."

"But what did they do?"

"Oh sweetheart," he said, misunderstanding. He kept her hands in one of his while his free hand stroked her hair. "I promise I didn't have an affair with any of them, if that's what you think they did to get fired. Besides, a couple of them were men."

She almost laughed, but instead she took her hands from his and said, "No I mean, tell me what specifically they did to get fired."

"They were mostly incompetent, or stupid, or annoying. You don't have to worry about being fired, because you're none of the above," he explained. He motioned for the waiter and said, "Let's just eat here, and then you can nap on the drive back to the resort."

She felt like she was being dismissed, but then again, he didn't know why she was asking these things. He ordered for them both, and then he turned his attention back to her. She was staring off in the distance. "What now?" he asked slightly concerned.

"What did they do to get fired?" she asked again.

"Oh, Merlin, Granger, but you are relentless. I hope you're like this in bed, too." The waiter set down their water glasses and snickered. Draco ignored the man and said, "Fine, the one fellow took four hour lunches. The one stupid hag almost cried every time I asked her to explain her ideas to me. The one bint was a bit too enthusiastic, giggling all the time, just overall annoying. The one did have a pimply face, just like Adrian said in the elevator that first day, but we fired him because he stole some information and sold it to my father's company."

Hermione could never do any of those things! "What else?"

"I don't know." He was just beginning to understand her line of questioning, and he wasn't pleased. "The one woman never bathed, and she stunk up the whole floor." He made that up. "Oh, yes, and one man we fired because he slept all day long, he was a right lazy git." He was trying to think of terrible things, knowing that she could never do any of them, even if she did suddenly want him to fire her.

"Besides," he added, "Adrian does all the hiring and firing. He would probably only fire you if you kept seeing me, or something. Yes, I know that is the only way Adrian would fire you, if you slept with me, and continued to date me." He was manipulating her, and he didn't have an ounce of regret about it.

All she said was, "oh."

She barely ate. They barely talked. She went to the restroom, so she could have some time alone to read the last note. She had just taken it out of her purse when he opened the door. "This is a woman's toilet, Malfoy," she explained as she stood by the sink.

He knew that. He also knew that she was probably in the restroom to read the last note, and he suddenly didn't want her to read it, at least, not yet. He looked at the symbol on the door, as he propped it open, and said, "Is that what that little round ball on top of the triangle means?"

Hermione pointed to the triangle and said, "The round ball is a head, and the triangle represents a dress."

He saw that she had his note in her hand. "Do you want to know what that triangle represents?" He pointed to the note.

"What?"

"A way for you to keep working, for us to keep dating, and we don't even have to get married…yet. But, don't read it yet, please."

She slipped it back in her purse and promised, "I'll read it later."

"You won't ever do anything to get fired, you know," he said to her as she was walking out of the toilet. He pulled on the back of her pretty dress and she stopped walking. "That's your plan, isn't it?"

"It was a half-arsed plan, at best," she admitted. "So, we're back to the beginning, but I don't want to think about it right now. It's boring me to tears. Everything will work out." She didn't really think so, but it didn't hurt to say it aloud.

They drove back to the resort and once she was out of the car, he told her he had to return it to its rightful owner, because he was too damn pretty for prison. He leaned toward her and kissed the tip of her nose and said, "Go have your nap, and then we'll do something nice before our late dinner. I have something bloody fab planned as your birthday present later." He reached around her waist and patted her bum.

"Hey!" she proclaimed, annoyed that he did so in public.

"A pat on the bum is tradition for a birthday," he defended. She walked in the resort, glanced back once, but he was already jogging down the stairs, and soon he was in the car and out of sight.

She went up to her room, changed into a cotton sundress, before she lay down on her stomach on the bed. Before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep. She woke up when she felt the bed dip beside her. She felt a feathery, soft kiss on her neck. Draco placed his hands in her hair, starting at her forehead, and he stroked her hair all the way down her head, to her back, threading his fingers through her curls. She still had her eyes closed, and she moved from her stomach to her side, facing away from him.

He stroked her hair two more times before he leaned forward to kiss her. He kissed her exposed neck, her shoulder, down her arm, the whole time his hand was still in her hair. She knew that he knew that she was now awake, because she made a sort of mewing sound. She opened her eyes and the room was rather dark. She wondered how long she had slept. She didn't have time to ask, because at that exact moment he was doing something fabulous to her. Her back was pulled up to his chest, his leg was slightly over hers, and his hand was on her stomach, and he was kissing her neck and it was a glorious, wonderful feeling.

Her dressed hitched up slightly, and as he continued to kiss and nip at her neck and jaw line, the hand that pressed against her belly went to her leg and pulled the thin material of her summer dress up higher, so that her thigh was exposed. His fingertips scraped lightly over her skin, from her thigh to her now bare hip. His hand grasped her hip, his fingers indenting her skin, and pulled her closer to him. He bit down on the sensitive juncture where her neck met her shoulder, and she sighed.

She took a moment to glance at his hand, which was now on her bare stomach, under her dress, and was moving ever upwards. She moved so she was on her back. His leg was still draped over hers, and she felt how much he wanted her against her hipbone. She looked up at him as his hand stopped moving, right below her bare breast. He stopped kissing her neck and he said, "Nice nap?"

"Nice wake up, actually," she said back. "How long have I slept?"

"Three hours."

"WHAT?" She tried to sit up, but his hand on her stomach wouldn't allow it. He kept her pressed down on the mattress.

"Its fine," he mumbled, his mouth moving across her face, over her eyes, cheeks, nose and chin. "Dinner is almost ready in the private dining room in my suite." His face was close to hers, his breath warm on her cheek. He placed a welcomed kiss on her lips, one that was warm, moist, and meaningful. She trembled slightly in his arms, and he knew that if he wanted her, she would be his, possibly forever. The air around them was thick and filled with a desire that was so tangible they could both feel it seeping into their skin, into their muscles, and through every fiber and nerve ending.

Hermione knew in her heart she couldn't kiss someone with this much passion if she didn't love them. This kiss had the power to influence her, reach inside her, and manipulate her, she didn't want it to end, and she found that she had no regret about that, either. His mouth moved over hers, warm tongue on tongue, pressing forward, not holding back, which caused her to want to open up and receive him in any way that she could.

He held back for a moment, lifted his head and looked at her, leaving her lips wanting more. His hand on her belly moved slowly upward to caress one breasts under the smooth cotton of her dress. She grasped his shoulders tightly, for if she let go, she feared she might drown. He bent his head and kissed her nipple over the barrier of her cotton dress, just a fleeting, warm kiss, which opened a dam of longing in her.

He lifted his head and said, "Do you want your birthday present now or later?"

"Are you my birthday present?" she asked.

To which he smiled and said…

* * *

_A/N: HA! HA! HA! I have missed cliffhangers so much. Remember when I used to use them all the time in my stories? Remember when all the readers would threaten me with bodily injury? Remember how I still used them, even after being threatened, because I'm on this side of the computer, and you are all on that side? Oh yes, fond memories, indeed. I think this story will only have eight more chapters, because I certainly don't want to drag it out, and have it go around in circles and meander. THANKS!_


	24. Chapter 24 Rude

**all characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 24: Rude:**

Draco held back from kissing Hermione for a moment. He lifted his head and looked at her, leaving her lips wanting more. His hand on her belly moved slowly upward to caress one breasts under the smooth cotton of her dress. She grasped his shoulders tightly, for if she let go, she feared she might drown. He bent his head and kissed her nipple over the barrier of her cotton dress, just a fleeting, warm kiss, which opened a dam of longing in her.

He lifted his head and said, "Do you want your birthday present now or later?"

"Are you my birthday present?" she asked.

To which he smiled and said, "I'm absolutely anything you want me to be. Your birthday present," he kissed her cheek, "Your engagement present," he kissed her lips, "Your mine forever present," he kissed the other cheek, "Your not getting fired present," he kissed her forehead, "or your not quitting present." He kissed her lips again. "And that, my dear Granger, is for once the truth."

He smirked at her and said, "Although, if you want another truth, which you always seem to think is so important, your real birthday present is the offer on that last little triangle, which you have yet to open. I want you to open it tonight, and give me your answer. However, if you want me to be your present too, you shall unwrap me now." His fingertips floated softly against one bare breast, making her nipple hard and erect. She shut her eyes.

"You're driving me crazy," she said. What did he mean by the statement, 'that's the truth?' And moreover, what did he mean when he said, 'your not getting fire or your not quitting present'? Did he mean, 'You're' or 'Your'? Did he have a better solution in mind? Was her true birthday present 'him' with no strings attached, but yet with something resembling wedding bells? Was he back to that? What was written on that last note?

She opened her eyes again and put one hand on his chest, to feel his beating heart. Suddenly, she pulled his hand away from her breast, and out from under her dress. She was slightly embarrassed that her dress was hiked up to her waist, but at least the room was somewhat dark. She held onto his wrist and her look was undecipherable to Draco. She looked serious, but calm, pensive but decisive. She was going to ask him what he meant. She was going to read what was in that note before tonight.

He knew that she was probably about to do or say something that would royally piss him off. She would demand that he stop 'waking her up' so they could discuss ways for her to be fired or something inane like that. Or else, she would want to throw another fit about getting married. Maybe she even wanted to read the note before tonight.

He decided he had to act quickly, to throw her off track, so he bent his head again and kissed her mouth hard.

He looked at her again, his face directly above hers, and he said, "I want you to decide what you want for your birthday, and if it's in my power to give it to you, I will, but you have to decide. I'm out of this now. The only thing I request from you is that you don't read that last note until after your birthday dinner tonight."

"Do you want to know what I really want for my birthday?" she asked, moving so that she was on her side. He moved to his side, to face her, their heads sharing a pillow.

"I'm waiting with bated breath," he muttered.

"I want you to kiss me again," she said, because that too was the truth. Right now she didn't care what he meant by his statement, and she didn't give a fig what was written on that last note. Her hands went under his shirt to span the expanse of his chest. He shifted so that his arm was under her head, and he lowered his lips to touch hers. A slow, deliberate meeting of mouths occurred. He kissed her with such an overwhelming affection that she felt all of her resolve melting away. Something about his kiss reached all the way down to her toes. She tingled all over. This really was all she wanted now, and when she realized that, she knew that he was right earlier. She would probably make love to him before the night was over.

And would that really be so bad? Would that be a mistake, even if they did end the weekend at an impasse? Even if they decided not to continue to see each other? Wouldn't it be nice to at least have the memory of their time together? It was her birthday, so shouldn't she get what she wanted?

She felt helpless as his hand went up her bare leg, and he murmured her name as he continued to kiss her face. She left limp and boneless as he sought peace that only she could provide. His kisses were the most awe-inspiring kisses she had ever received. He kissed her repeatedly, soft, warm, inviting, agonizingly slow kisses that built in intensity, so much so that she felt as if she was slipping off the face of the earth.

Her hands grasped his forearms, then his neck, and climbed to his hair, to push his face closer. They continued to kiss and caress for many, many long moments, and neither wanted it to stop.

She sighed as he kissed the hollow of her throat, his hand on the outside of her dress, touching, caressing, and torturing her to the brink of insanity. His kisses were demanding. Demanding, seeking and rapturous, and he was well aware that she held his destiny in her beautiful hands, and not the other way around, and that was an uneasy revelation for him to make. Then for some reason, he suddenly stopped.

He stopped kissing her to place his head on her chest. Her heart was beating faster than a hummingbird's wing. He had to stop, because this wasn't the way it was meant to be. He had everything pictured perfectly in his mind, and though this was the way he wanted the day to end, it wasn't yet the end. If they continued, she might regret it, and never read that last note. He couldn't have that. Someone had to be the strong one, and although Draco knew that he was usually the weak one, this one time he would do the right thing.

He took a deep breath and said, "In due time, my Granger. We have all night. Hell, we have a lifetime, if you want, but right now, we have to stop. You just have to read that last note, after your birthday, and then give me an answer." He looked up from her and asked, "Where is the note?"

She couldn't answer, because she was confused and still dazed, so she pointed to her purse. He had his wand out before she knew it and he summoned the note to his hand. He stuffed it in his pocket. Finally, he said, "This is painful for me to say, but I really do have dinner and then something special planned for you in my room, so I have to go. I definitely want to continue this later, though."

"Oh, Draco," she said. She didn't even know what she meant by it, but he must have known, because he responded.

"I know, sweetheart." He crawled off the bed, stood in the doorway of her bedroom, held out his hand to her, and said, "Isn't this the best blind date in the world?" He smiled widely, and left her room, his note in his hand.

He took the lifts up to the top floor, and then he walked down the hallway to the penthouse. Though he knew in his heart-of-hearts that stopping things before it went too far was the right thing to do, he shouldn't have stopped kissing her. If he had kept kissing her, she would have relented, made love to him, and then she wouldn't be able to leave him, because he wouldn't let her, but he didn't want to manipulate her any longer. He wanted it to be her choice.

He couldn't lose her. His pursuit of happiness began when he took her hand during that staff meeting in his office, continued when he pretended to be her blind date, and would continue the rest of their lives, if she didn't do something to screw it up, and he had absolutely no regrets about that. He had spent his whole life searching for something he didn't even know existed, and finally he was no longer searching. He found what he wanted; now he had to hold onto it. He had to be smart, or he would lose it all.

The last note was smart. His plan to trap her into marriage earlier today wasn't smart, and it probably would never have worked, so he was partly pleased that she had figured it out. Oh, if it had worked, he would have been just as pleased (and he would be on his honeymoon right now, which would have been pleasant, too), but he knew it was a far-fetched scheme, hence his backup plan, the last note. Her little plan to be fired, or quit, was about as reasonable as his marriage plan. No, the only thing that made sense, besides the unthinkable thing of not seeing her any longer, was what he had written on that last triangle.

How would she react when she read it? Would she dismiss it before she even thoroughly read it? Would she bark at the contents, and say that she couldn't accept such a lavish birthday present? Had she maybe already read it? He didn't think so. Knowing her as well as he did, he knew that if she had already read it, she would want to discuss it to death.

He would ask her to read it tonight. She would fuss about the particulars, he realized that, but she was smart. She would see that it was a solid plan, one that made righteous sense, and one that would work for everyone.

It had to work.

He leaned against the outside of the door to his rooms, closed his eyes, and let his mind wander. He allowed his fancy to linger on the very real feeling of kissing her. The way he played with her mouth, kissing, licking, plunging deeper into its depths, seeking truth and passion. His hands could almost feel the way her body felt when he touched her. He loved the way her breasts felt, and he knew that when he finally got to see them, he would love them even more.

Removing his mouth from hers was akin to true agony, but remove it he had to do, so that he could prepare for tonight. It was more important to prepare for a lifetime, than to revel in a moment.

He opened the door and walked in, and imagined that he was once again drinking from the fountain of her lips, moving his lips languidly from her mouth, to her neck, and then to her collarbone. Her hands roamed his shoulders, his back, and then went up to pull his hair. It seemed, to him, that it was happening right now.

Nevertheless, leaving was the right thing to do. He knew it, and tonight, when she gave him her answer, he would have his confirmation that it was better not to take her completely, until he could have her and not have to worry about her running away, or having to give her back. Once he had her, he wasn't sure he would ever be able to give her back.

He threw himself on his couch, threw his arm over his eyes, and reminisced the way she squirmed under him. She made throaty little moans, and twice she said his name. He was hard again, just thinking of it. He didn't want to stop, but he did. He caressed her skin with his fingertips, and then he somehow found the power and strength to stop.

He sat up, looked at his hands, which tingled from the thought of touching her, and said aloud, "You're such a fool, Draco Malfoy. You had her in the palm of her hand, but you did the honorable thing, and you stopped. You didn't even lie to her. What's become of you?" He kicked off his shoes, threw the little triangle note from his pocket onto the coffee table, and walked to the bathroom to take a cold shower.

In one hour's time, she would come up here, they would share a meal, he would give her a token of affection for her birthday, and then he would get her to read that blasted note, and she would say 'yes' and all would be put to rights.

Unless she messed it up, damn it.

He stood in the bathroom, in only a towel, when he heard a timid knock on his door, and he knew before he opened it that it was she. He jaunted to the door, flung it open, and said, "Why are you here? You're early."

"What does it say?" she asked. "I need to know."

He knew she meant the note. "I want you to open it tonight. Can't you wait?" he asked.

"I don't think so," she admitted. "Is it something that will make it good birthday, or a difficult one?"

He pulled her into the room, made sure the towel was tucked safely around his waist, and hissed, "Why, Granger, why? Why are you so difficult? Why do you make my life miserable? Why did I have to fall for someone who was such a harpy?"

Her brows knitted and she said, "Harpy?" She would ignore that for a moment and asked, "Just answer this, did you stop kissing me down there as payback for when I got you all hot and bothered before our trip today? You know, when I came out in the hallway in just my knickers, shoes, and towel?"

He sat down on a chair opposite the couch, threw up his legs to rest on the top of the coffee table (she averted her eyes, because he was in only a towel, for goodness sakes), and pointed at her. He laughed as he said, "I knew you were just playing the innocent earlier!"

"Yes, yes, you're smart," she lolled with a roll of her eyes. "If you're playing me, to get me hot and bothered, then it won't work."

"Why is that?" he asked. "Is it because you plan on, gasp, having sex with me tonight? Or was that my plan all along?" He looked at her with a cocky expression and waited for her response.

"Oh, Draco," she said. She sat down, tried not to look up his towel, stood back up, and said, "Until I know what will happen with us after this weekend, I'm not having sex with you, I promise you that."

He threw his head back, rolled it back and forth and moaned, "Oh, Draco, yes, Draco, that feels good Draco, oh don't stop, Draco." He looked at her and said, "That was you earlier. I could have had you ten ways to Sunday down there, but I did the honorable thing, decided I should hold back until tonight, so it could be done right, and not rushed, and now you think _I'm_ playing _you_? You're insane, and I'm frankly done with this. Furthermore, I think you're incredibly rude at the moment, Granger!" He stood up and said, "Read the damn note. I don't care."

He walked back toward the bathroom and said, "I'm getting a shower. It was going to be a cold one, but you've put enough of a damper on my mood with your insanity that now it'll be a warm one. If you want your birthday dinner, and present, then come back up here in an hour. If you don't, then don't. If you want to go ahead and read the effing note, read it. If you want to wait, then wait." He slammed the bathroom door, and when he was on the other side of it, away from her he yelled, "It's up to you! It's all up to you! Everything's up to you! You hold all the cards! Make your bloody decision!"

"Well speaking of rude, that was rude," she said as she walked out of the room, picking up the note from the coffee table before she left.


	25. Chapter 25 Realizations

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 25: Realizations:**

Draco looked over at Hermione as they stood on the boardwalk, at almost midnight, on the night of her thirtieth birthday. He placed his arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her closer. She sagged against him. He tenderly turned her so that she faced him. All evening, she had an air of sadness surrounding her, and he didn't know why, but it bothered him.

"Was it all you wanted it to be?" he asked.

"Of course," she said, not impressively. He kissed her forehead.

"Just you and me now, my birthday girl," he whispered. "Are you ready for your present?"

"You've given me enough," she said. "The wonderful day yesterday, the trip to the cathedral today, and then tonight, with dinner and dancing and the roses up in your suite, well, really, it was all rather nice."

"Nice?" he repeated. He wasn't really prepared for that response. Nice was bland and blasé, two things neither of them were in the least. He thought, 'I'll give her nice.'

He lowered his face to hers, and his mouth began to press upon hers. The hardness of his chest pressed into her body, as his hands caressed up and down her back. She tilted her head upward, to receive him more readily, and though she was an active participant, he continued to feel that she was vacant, and not completely there.

She trembled and he stopped kissing her long enough to walk her over to a blanket he had already set up in the sand. They both sat down, he slipped his hand down her leg, then up to her thigh, moved to his back, with her on top, and he placed one hand on her bum and one on her back. Her breath came out as a ragged burst, and he stopped for a moment to turn them around, so that she was on her back, and he loomed over her.

He could see the fabric of her dress pressed tightly over her breasts, and he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone or anything in his entire life. He didn't just want her physically. It was more. It was monumentally more. He wanted to make Hermione Granger his own. That was one reason he kept referring to her as 'my'…my Granger, my birthday girl, my, my, my. In simple terms, he wanted to marry her, but there was plenty of time for that. He would wait until she was ready.

He deepened the kiss when he thought about her becoming his wife, and his hand slipped inside the slit of her dress, and traveled back up her thigh. He finally relented, stopped kissing her and he said, "Do you want to read the note now?"

She looked up at him and shook her head no. He scowled. He sat up and said, "I really think you should read it. It's part of your birthday present." He was already slightly ticked off because she shook her head no. Why wouldn't she want to read the note? She claimed she wanted to read it, she even stole it from his room earlier, but after she arrived for dinner, she handed it back to him and said that she hadn't read it yet, and she would wait to read it when he was ready for her to do so.

Well, he was ready, and now she wasn't. She confused him to no end. He was falling in love with the bloody bint, and she vexed him more than he could imagine. Her birthday was almost over, all she had to do now was to read the note, and it would be complete. He felt it all went rather well, except for one small thing…she seemed sad.

He sat back up and so did she. Neither said another word about the note. He knew it was still safely inside his coat pocket, where he placed it when she handed it to him after she arrived in his room. He took a fleeting glance back toward her, then took his index finger and moved it up and down her upper arm. She turned her gaze from the ocean to him and she sighed.

"Another year older," she mused.

"And yet, you don't look a day over thirty," he joked. She gave him a weak smile. "What's wrong, Hermione? Are you sad that the day's almost over, or are you sad that you're getting older, or has something I've said or done upset you? Did I not show you a nice birthday?" He thought he sounded slightly pitiful and pathetic, asking for affirmations, but he seriously wanted to know if he had been remiss. If he had done something wrong, he wanted to know. He leaned over and kissed her bare shoulder.

He suddenly felt insecure. His entire life he acted cocky and self-assured on the outside, while facing all sorts of demons regarding insecurities on the inside, and he hated that. He thought things would be different now that he was older. He thought things would be different with her, but he realized that he was still just an insecure person wrapped up in the trappings of a world-class prick. Such was his life. Perhaps she was also facing some demons. He would have to find out.

"Really, my Granger, if I did something wrong, or if I forgot something, tell me. If you're worried about something, or upset, I want to know. Your birthday isn't over yet. We can still make it perfect. We have," he looked at his watch, "Fourteen more minutes."

She turned to him and then to his surprise she cupped his cheek and said, "Why don't you want to marry me?"

_Earlier in the evening:_

Hermione picked up the note from Draco's coffee table, and rushed down to her room, after making a comment about how rude Draco was being. She opened the door to her suite, then slammed the door shut, and threw the note on the couch. She paced back and forth, and was about to announce to the empty room just how rude he was being again, when she stopped.

He wasn't being rude. He was being sweet. He was right! She was the rude one! She was acting out of character and she was ashamed. He was so very right, as much as she hated to admit it. He was even right when he called her a 'harpy'. As much as she abhorred the word, 'harpy', a harpy described her to a T.

Why was she acting like this? Even she didn't have an answer for her actions. She walked to her bedroom, opened her closet to find something to wear tonight, when she realized she didn't have another dress to wear. She had already worn the dress he had bought her for their blind date. The dress she had brought with her was the one she had worn to the cathedral earlier, so she couldn't wear it again. Still, she took it off the hanger and stared at it.

She examined it for a while longer and then she came to such a startling realization that it almost blindsided her. The real reason she wore such a fancy dress on their outing was on the off chance that he might 'force' her to marry him today. She sat on the edge of the bed, with the dress bunched in her hands, and it pained her to admit that fact, but it remained a fact, nonetheless.

She wore this pretty, cream coloured dress earlier, anticipating that he might force the issue of a wedding as a way to solve their problem, which meant one thing and one thing only: she wanted to marry Draco Malfoy! She'd dressed earlier for a wedding that she claimed she didn't want. She dressed for a wedding in which she threw a fit about because it _might_ happen, even though deep inside she _wanted_ it to happen!

Upon closer examination, she saw just how stupid she had been. She threw the dress on the floor, stood up and said aloud, "I want to marry Draco Malfoy!" She rushed to the outer room, ran to the sofa, and picked up the small piece of parchment, still neatly folded in a small triangle.

She wanted to read it, but she wanted to respect his wishes, too. If it was a wedding proposal, she didn't want to spoil anything this time. She picked up her purse and ran down the hall to the lifts. She didn't have much time, and she had so much to do!

She went to the boutique where they had bought her dress for the blind date. She found the perfect dress for tonight. It wasn't overstated, yet it could serve as a 'birthday-slash-wedding dress' just fine.

It was a shimmering silver/grey colour, satin, small straps across the shoulder, tight across the bodice, tight across the hips, with a slit up the side. She bought shoes, a clutch purse, and some long, chandelier earrings. She ran back toward the hotel, chanting in her head, "I want to marry Draco," repeatedly.

What was wrong with her? She wanted to marry a man she had just become reacquainted with a week ago! Forget the fact that they grew up together, because the fact that they hated each other in school negated the other fact that she hardly knew the man. She was still an idiot! She wanted to marry him and she knew it was a rash, impulsive decision, but she hardly cared.

She really was an idiot. She was an idiot to sign a contract without reading it, she was an idiot to throw a fit about a possible wedding today, and she was a **rude** idiot when she went up to his room earlier. She was an idiot in love, and that was all that mattered. She ran back to the resort with her new dress tucked tightly under her arm.

When she reached the massive resort, she looked up at it and realized it looked magnificent with the backdrop of the setting sun, which threw gold and pink rays of light over the entire structure. She would always have fond memories of this place. This was the place where she fell in love. This would be the place where she would get married. She continued toward the portico with a smile on her face, and finally she really did feel like a new woman. She was misguided in thinking that a new job, a new house, and new clothes could make her a new Hermione. That was a lie. That was the old Hermione wrapped in a façade, with a dollop of pretense on top!

Well, the old Hermione was finally gone, the new one was now center stage, and she liked this new woman very much. She was glad she took the reins and didn't let the old Hermione spoil things for her. She skipped up the stairs of the grand hotel, spied Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, sharing a chaise lounge, sipping after dinner drinks, and she waved at them.

She thought they looked sublimely happy, and she envied them, wondering if she and Draco would come here to celebrate their anniversary every year. She hoped so.

Stepping onto the lifts, she came to yet another realization. This whole act of reinventing and reinvigorating herself was really just her way of waiting for something good to happen, without appearing to wait for whatever it was that was lacking in her life. She was waiting for a companion, a soul mate, a worthy adversary, a lover and a best friend. A husband and a father for her children. Merlin help her, she was waiting for Draco.

He said he would give her anything she wanted for her birthday, and by golly, she wanted him for her birthday.

She went up to her room and quickly changed into her new outfit. She fixed her hair and makeup and then ran to the doors to the penthouse suite. Before knocking, she straightened her dress, smoothed down her hair, opened her clutch to make sure the note was inside, and then smiled. She was about to knock on the door, when instead, she opened her purse again. She pulled out the little triangle piece of parchment, already certain of what it would say, but still she opened it to read it.

She read it twice. She swallowed hard, mouth dry, hands shaking. She was crushed at what she read. This was not what she expected. Was it a solution to their dating dilemma? Certainly. Was it something she would consider accepting? Probably. Was it what she wanted in her heart of hearts? No way. Realization of another form set in as she began to acknowledge that Draco Malfoy wasn't proposing marriage at all.

Because nowhere on the little piece of parchment was a marriage proposal. There wasn't even anything resembling a marriage proposal on the blasted thing. She didn't know what to do, she felt numb. She should have let him trick her into marrying him this afternoon, as he planned. Apparently, this note was plan 'b', to be used only if she wouldn't go along with marriage. That was why he gave it to her, because he thought she didn't want to get married.

As mentioned earlier. Hermione Granger was an idiot.

The smile faded from her face, and she was on the verge of turning away from his room to leave, when the door opened.

"Hey, I was wondering where you were. You're late. I was just going down to your room to check on you," he said with a smile.

She smiled back, and put her hands behind her back. She managed to open the small, clutch purse behind her back, and stuffed the note inside. He stood in front of her in a dark silver suit, with a navy tie, and she realized that the matched again. For some reason, that made her even sadder. He leaned forward and said, "Happy Birthday, my darling Granger," and with that said, he kissed her cheek, held the door open, and she walked into the suite.

* * *

_A/N 1: I had this chapter ready two days ago, but this site had some troubles, so I couldn't post it until now. Now, I know that it seems this is going in circles, and I know that some people are becoming weary of it, and that always seems to happen with stories, but I don't want to rush it. I have a plan and I want to stick to it. My story arch makes sense, at least to me. I understand when readers get frustrated, and they want a story to move on and sometimes even to end, but I don't want to rush it just because readers are frustrated. I did that with the story, "A Second Chance" and then I ended up not liking how it ended, because I hurried up and finished it because people were becoming frustrated._

_So, please, stick with things. Yes, the story might not be a barrel of laughs right now, but it's basically a romantic story, with humour, not the other way around. It's not angst riddled at all, and it will still have some humour. The story will cover her birthday dinner, the night after, and then a few days after they get back to work, before it wraps up. Thanks!_


	26. Chapter 26 Honesty

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 26: Honesty:**

Draco looked at his watch for the hundredth time. She was late. Not by a lot, but still, she was late. He told her to be back up in his room in an hour, and it had been over an hour. The hotel staff had already brought up dinner, (all her favourites), her gift was sitting safely under the coffee table, and the last note, her real present, was safely on top of the same coffee table.

He turned to survey the room and realized something. The note was gone. He walked over to the table, looked around, got down on his knees, looked on the floor, under the sofa, back on the top, and came to a conclusion. She took the blasted note earlier! She must have read it by now. What would she think of it? Would she see it as a solution to their problem, or as a last ditch effort on his part to salvage things on the off chance that the whole 'quickie wedding' thing didn't work out.

Because that's what it was. It was his back-up plan. He knew he really only had a small, slim, sliver of a chance to trick her into marriage, so he came up with another way for them to continue to see each other, and he was going to present it to her tonight, by having her read the last note, but now it was gone.

She ruined her own surprise, damn her. She really did make things difficult, didn't she? It was a good thing that he loved her now, because otherwise he would find her incredibly annoying.

He sat down on the sofa to think about things. Maybe that's why she was late. She read the note and she didn't know what to make of it. She certainly went berserk in the car earlier, when she thought (found out?) his plans to trick her into marriage, so really, this should have pleased her. Seriously, he wasn't offering something insane like marriage this time. This was different. This really should make her happy! She shouldn't get her knickers into a twist over the contents of this last note.

He looked at his watch once more. She was eighteen minutes late. He was going to go down to her room, pull her up here by her hair, and demand that she be honest with him. Damn her! If she didn't want to marry him, fine, he would accept that for now, but what right did she to steal the note? Okay, he did 'halfway' tell her take the stupid thing if she wanted to; still, she shouldn't have taken it.

Furthermore, what right did she have to stand him up on her birthday? It was her birthday, sure, but it was just as important to him. Couldn't she see that?

The more he honestly mulled over these things in his head, the angrier he became. He stormed over to the door, about to implement his whole, 'pulling her up here by her hair' scheme when he heard a knock. He knew it was she. He squared back his shoulders, and opened the door.

As soon as he saw her, his anger abated. Perhaps it was because she seemed sad. Perhaps it was because she looked so very beautiful. Or perhaps it was because he suddenly didn't care if she had read the note or not. He leaned forward and said, "Happy Birthday, my darling Granger," and with that said, he kissed her cheek, held the door open, and she walked into the suite.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione painted on a grin, and smiled at Draco as he reached for her hand and pulled her into his room. She wouldn't let the contents of the note ruin this evening. He walked over toward the opened doors that led to the balcony, pointed to a table that he had set up right outside, and he said, "Go on out to the balcony, and I'll be right out." He walked over to the bedroom and shut the door. She hurried to retrieve the note from her purse and started to place it back where she found it earlier, on the coffee table, when he stepped back into the room. She palmed the note and smiled again.

He eyed her suspiciously, but said nothing. He said, "Shall we?" He offered his arm and she walked with him outside.

She placed her napkin on her lap, and before she started to eat, she noticed that he had all of her favourite foods on the table. "Malfoy, how did you know that all of these were my favourite foods?"

"I know a thing or two about you," he answered honestly. "I did go to school with you for a long time. I sat at the table across from your table. One couldn't help but notice Weasley devouring his food, and since you usually sat next to him, I watched you, too."

She went to reach for her fork, but she still had the note in her hand. She slipped the note under her hip on the chair, took a bite of her roasted chicken, and then pointed with her fork and gasped, before saying, "You even have my favourite wine! I didn't drink wine at Hogwarts."

He grinned and said, "Are you sure? I think you had to be half sloshed out of your mind most of the time. Why else would a perfectly intelligent girl have a crush on Weasel?"

She smirked and said, "I found him quite handsome."

He sputtered, spitting out a mouth full of potatoes, which in turn made her snort. "Handsome? What does that say for your opinion of me? You must view me as a Greek God or something."

"You're something, alright," she laughed. "Did you really notice me in school?" She looked at him beguiling.

"A bit." He didn't elaborate, and when she put her fork down and stared at him, he finally said, "Fine, I hated you on the outside, but on the inside, you always turned my heart to gelatin."

She giggled again and said, "I doubt that. You were always so mean to me in school, and you were such a brat. Spoiled, pampered, egotistical, and a bully through and through."

He nodded along with her assessment and said, "I agree. Was that statement meant to humble me, because frankly, the thought that you understood the real me back then sort of turns me on."

Hermione finally laughed outright, forgetting the note, and its contents, and realizing that THIS was what she wanted. Someone who could hold up his end of the conversation, could make her laugh, could challenge her, and make her feel special. Marriage wasn't as important as being with him. The fourth note was beginning to making good sense. She thought it might be something she could live with.

He reached over, speared one of her carrots with his fork, and said, "Did you ever remotely think of me in school as anything other than spoiled, pampered, and so on and so forth?"

"I thought your self-assuredness was an act," she said plainly. "I thought you were one of the most insecure people I knew."

He frowned, not just with his mouth, but his whole face. He said sarcastically, "Well, tell me the truth, Granger. Don't hold back. Be honest."

She sighed and said, "I'm sorry, but you asked."

"I meant, did you think I was dashing or any such tripe. I didn't want a psychological profile of my youth examined," he waned. "Do you want to know what I thought about you? I thought you overcompensated when you were in school. You know… must be the best, the smartest, a teacher's pet, and all because you knew you had inferior blood."

She banged on the table, and he looked up from cutting his steak and shrugged. She mocked, "Tell me the truth, Malfoy. Don't hold back."

"Oh hell, we were both flawed," he concluded. "I was everything you said, because I was basically insecure, and you were a bit of what I said, but not because you really were inferior, but because you thought other people thought that."

"I mainly thought that you thought that, but I suppose that statement is fair enough," she agreed with a slight nod of her head.

They ate, reminisced, and laughed some more. Finally, he placed his napkin on the table and said, "Stay here." He came back out with a chocolate soufflé, a sparkler sticking out of the top, the sparks - red, green, white, jetting off the end. She smiled and clapped.

"I love chocolate!"

"I know," he answered. "Sorry there's only one sparkler, but if I put one for each year, the hotel might catch on fire."

He smiled and she shook her head. "You're so droll," she said with a sigh.

"I'm a troll?" he asked. He laughed, because he had heard her. He hooked the leg of the chair next to her with his foot, and pulled it out slightly. He sat beside her, pushed her shoulder into his and said, "Make a wish."

She glared at him and said, "Why, it won't come true."

"It might," he said, holding the dessert under her nose, passing it back and forth.

"Not possible," she answered cryptically, "because it already has."

He understood what she meant, and he thought it was an exceedingly sweet thing for her to think. He placed the flaming soufflé on the table quickly, put both hands on her face, pulled her toward him and kissed her lips soundly.

He placed his mouth near her ear and said, "It's not my birthday, and my wish came true, too."

She pushed slightly away from him and asked, "What was your wish?"

"A night of hot passionate sex with you," he answered with a lewd grin.

She bit her bottom lip and said, "That's not a wish, but a pipe dream, and it won't come true. My wish however, did come true."

He skimmed his knuckles down her face and said, "Do tell."

"You," she said candidly.

He let out the breath he was holding and shut his eyes for the briefest of moments. He cupped her face again, and said, "Blow out the candle then, and make your wish official."

She turned toward the sparkler, and blew. He watched as her mouth formed the most perfect 'O' he had ever seen, so he moved his face in front of hers, and kissed that perfect mouth, placing his lips gently on hers.

He pulled her to stand, her hands in his, and then he placed his arms protectively around her body. Music started, she never questioned from where, and they began to move back and forth, still in more of an embrace, than a dance.

Despite a faint, lingering doubt, in the back of her mind of just how they would continue with this relationship, she felt safe and loved, two things she hadn't felt in such a long time. She put her arms around his waist, clasping her hands together, and resting her cheek on his chest. She said, "Thank you for a lovely birthday."

He answered, "It's not over yet."

She found the man in her arms impossible to resist, despite their past, despite his reputation, despite their hurdles. There was more to him than good looks and a biting wit, and she was determined to discover everything there was about him. Still, on the off chance that this might not go beyond this weekend, she wouldn't give him all of her. She would hold back a bit of her heart, in case it got broken. That way, if he broke it, she would still have a bit intact for future use.

That meant no matter how much they both wanted it, she wouldn't slip with him. She couldn't give him that last piece of her heart, the piece that went with being intimate. The piece saved for making love. She honestly wouldn't survive if she gave him it all, and it didn't go past tonight. Therefore, she wouldn't sleep with him this weekend, no matter what.

He was exasperating sometimes, but he was also funny and exciting. He was a cad, but just a bit, and he was cynical to a degree, but so was she. She let herself relax completely in the framework of his arms, and she knew even if this weekend was a mistake, it was a mistake that she would never regret. This day was almost perfect. Almost. Suddenly, she remembered the note. She moved her head toward the other side, and looked at her empty chair. The note had dropped to the floor.

He was looking at it, too. She looked up at his face, and his gaze went from the note to her eyes. Just a second ago, she felt heaven in his embrace and she was without a care, but that moment was gone. He let go of her, and bent down, scooped up the note and said, "I wonder how this got out here?"

He raised one eyebrow and looked directly in her eyes again. She almost told him the truth, but instead, she lied. "I took it with me earlier, to read it, but I was resolute not to do so. I didn't want to ruin anything, so I brought it back up here, and I decided I would only read it if and when you wanted me to," she said.

At that moment, he wanted to believe her, because she had only ever been honest with him. He said, "I have another present for you and then I thought we would take a walk. Go to our bench, and then perhaps, you'll want to read the note."

She didn't want to read the note, because she already had and it didn't say what she wanted it to say, but he had given her such a perfect birthday, that she couldn't begrudge him, so she smiled and said, "Alright."

He towed her inside and pointed toward the couch. She sat down and he reached under the coffee table and handed her a long box, similar to the box she had received before her date, the one containing the red roses. She thought that was the contents of this box, but when she opened it she saw it was so very different. She lifted the lid and inside were two intertwined white roses, but they were so much more. They were almost animated, and they shimmered and glowed in the hushed lighting of his suite. She picked them up in unison, the stems wrapped elegantly around each other.

She looked up him, questioning, and he said, "They represent you and me and this magical place, and this wondrous weekend. Do you like them? They'll last forever." In his mind, he added, 'just like us'.

She smiled her response and he took them from her hand and said, "Close your eyes." She did and he brushed the petals of the joined roses over her lips and then he placed them back in the box on the table, before he leaned forward and kissed her once more.

And they continued to kiss. Nothing mattered but their kiss. The kiss started tenderly, then gravitated toward something more. Hermione was only aware of his body pressing hers to her back, his chest leaning on her chest, his hand bringing her legs off the floor to lie out in front of her, his lean frame pressing onto hers. His hand caressed up and down her face, neck and arm. He moved so he was beside her, rather than on her, with her back pressed up against the couch.

She trembled and he felt out of control. He knew what he wanted to do, but he didn't know how to proceed and not spoil the last surprise, her real present, the thing he offered her on the note. If he didn't stop soon, he would HAVE to make love to her. There would be no turning back.

The note was a solution they needed to continue to see each other, and so they could openly express their love.

In addition, he wanted to save his passion for later, because no matter what she believed in her perfectly little, uptight brain, they were definitely going to make love tonight, no ifs, ands, or buts.

Removing his mouth from hers, he openly sighed before pressing his forehead to hers, and resting his hand on her hip. "Oh, my little Granger, whatever shall I do with you?"

"Not what you're intending, I'm sure," she said, though her ragged breath told the truth behind her words. He knew that he could have her easily, but then, where was the fun in that?

He rolled off her and stood up. He offered his hand again and said, "Let's go for that midnight stroll."

The walked silently out of his room, down the corridor, toward the lifts, and then out of the resort toward the boardwalk.

_Later that evening:_

Standing on the beach, she seemed sullen and sad suddenly. He turned to her and said, "Really, my Granger, if I did something wrong, or if I forgot something, tell me. If you're worried about something, or upset, I want to know. Your birthday isn't over yet. We can still make it perfect. We have," he looked at his watch, "fourteen more minutes."

She turned to him and then to his surprise she cupped his cheek and said, "Why don't you want to marry me?"

* * *

_A/N: Okay, so it's been a week since I updated. My Beta told me she almost sent out a search party for me. The truth was that I had a very busy week at work last week, nine days in a row, two twelve hour days thrown in the mix. This coming week should be better. I have another chapter completely ready to be posted, too._

_Personal A/N: Great news from the oncologist! I'm going to be perfectly fine! No other treatment is required! The surgery was all I needed, and I only have to follow up with the doctor in three months, and the surgeon in a year. YEAH! Thanks to everyone for their positive thoughts and prayers, and I hope to put all of this behind me now. It's been four stressful months. Thanks everyone!_


	27. Chapter 27 Perplexed

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 27: Perplexed:**

Draco thought, 'The sneaky little thing read the note, and didn't like what she read.' She must have thought it contained a marriage proposal! She must have assumed that he was going to have had her read it right before they got to the cathedral, when actually, he was going to 'pop' the question in person. That note was merely a back-up plan. On the off chance that she _had_ agreed to marry him, he was still going to give it to her, as a wedding present.

On the greater chance that she _wouldn't_ agree to marriage, the suggestion on the last note was the next best solution.

Now she thought that was all there was, she was upset, and he was frankly perplexed. Why were women so difficult to understand? Especially Hermione Granger.

She waited for an answer as to why he no longer wanted to marry her and she wasn't upset or anxious. More than anything, she would say that the whole thing baffled her. He did admit earlier to planning a wedding at the cathedral. Wasn't this note part of that plan? Weren't the other three notes preludes leading up to this final note, which should have said, "Will you marry me?" Why didn't it say, "Will you marry me?" Did he secretly have another note waiting for her that said that? Was it buried in the sand somewhere? Was he going to ask her in person?

Really, she was slightly put out. What was Draco's problem? Why didn't he want to marry her? He apparently thought she was good enough to sleep with, since he continued to mention that little tidbit, but not to marry. Perhaps his admission that he had a wedding planned earlier was another one of his elaborate lies.

Draco almost asked Hermione what she meant by her question, but he already knew. Was this why she had an air of sadness swirling around her today? He was no longer perplexed, but ambiguous, because he didn't know what to make of that, and also, he no longer knew what he felt.

"You wouldn't want to marry me after one weekend, would you?" he asked cautiously. "You threw a temper tantrum on the way to the church when you guessed my plan, so in actuality, it's you who doesn't want to marry me. I already made it clear that I wanted to marry you."

Her brows knitted together as she pondered that. How could she explain to him her sudden realization earlier that she had changed her mind, and had discovered that marriage, to him, would be a pretty good thing, when he was right…she did throw a fit before. "Well…" she started.

"No, my Granger," he said, suddenly with ire, "you can't toy with my emotions this way."

He walked around her with a grin on his face, enjoying her discomfort immensely, because it meant that she had changed her mind about marriage, which gave him the upper hand. He liked having the upper hand with Granger, and he was certain it wouldn't occur often in their relationship, so he needed to bask in its glory while he could.

He stood behind her and ran his finger down her back. He leaned toward her, his chin on her shoulder, and she turned her head slightly to look at his face. "Seriously, Hermione, I admit I was going to pop the question and spring a surprise wedding on you earlier today, but you made it perfectly clear that you thought that was an abhorrent plan. In fact, you acted as if it disgusted you and," he stopped to run his finger down her spin again, "made your skin crawl."

"Nooo," she drawled out, and turned to face him. Now she walked around him, in a rather elaborate, choreographed, move, touching his suit jacket with the tips of her fingers as she went. When she reached his back, she put both hands on his shoulders, stood on her tiptoes, and with her chin on his shoulder she said, "That would mean that I found the whole idea repulsive, and I wasn't repulsed in the least. I was shocked."

He turned suddenly. He poked her on the chest, rather hard, and said, "Shocked?"

"Yes, shocked and surprised," she answered.

He poked her again and repeated, "Surprised?"

"Stop poking me," she said with a slight grin, batting his finger away. She poked him with each of the following words, "Surprised," poke, "Shocked," poke, "Stunned," poke, "Astonished and amazed," poke – poke, "But not repulsed," very hard poke!

He placed his hands on her shoulders and put his nose next to hers; At this point, she amused him tremendously. He asked, "Did you read that note?" He had a cocky grin on his face, and she knew if she lied this time, he would know it.

Still, she lied. "No, I didn't, and I'm shocked, surprised, and frankly repulsed, that you would think that I did," she said with an indignant air, which was not justified.

He couldn't wipe the grin off his face if he tried. The fact that she was not only upset that the note didn't contain a marriage proposal, but that she lied about reading it, warmed his heart to the very core. It also meant that she wanted to marry him.

Well, wasn't love grand? Love was almost as good as a lying Hermione Granger.

Draco shrugged and said, "You know, if you want marriage, the last note just might be a marriage proposal, so why jump to conclusions and assume that it isn't? You haven't read it yet, so you don't know what it says."

She didn't know how to respond, therefore she didn't.

Nevertheless, he kept talking enough for the both of them. He held up her arm, kissed the inside of her wrist, which almost made her legs turn to jelly, and skimmed his nose up to the crook of her arm, before placing a kiss on the sensitive juncture there. He said, "You are always so truthful, so I believe you when you say that you didn't read the note, and as you know, since truthful is now my middle name, I'm being truthful when I say that the marriage proposal that no longer repulses you is written on that last note." He kissed her shoulder, stood behind her again, wrapped his arms around her and said, "All you have to do is read it, and accept or decline. That is my birthday present to you, your freewill."

He wondered what she would make of that statement.

That statement perplexed her out of her mind.

That note didn't contain a marriage proposal, but Draco would rectify that as soon as he could, and wouldn't that catch her in her little lie?

That note didn't contain a marriage proposal! She knew that for a fact, but how could she call him on the lie without exposing her own lie?

She couldn't think on it, because he had her hand in his and was pulling her along the boardwalk once more. She had half a mind to demand to see that note, and call him out as the liar that he was, but that would mean she would have to admit to lying, too, and she wasn't in the mood for that. She really didn't want to ruin what remained of their date, and the best birthday of her life, so she would wait and read the note in the morning, and that way, she could call him a liar tomorrow instead of tonight.

He swung their joined hands between them and asked, "So, do you want to read the note. Do you want your last present?"

"I'm tired of the whole note thing. I'll read it tomorrow," she said.

"You do know that I leave early tomorrow morning, right?" he asked.

She looked over at him as they continued their walk and said, "You can leave it with me, under my door or something, and I'll give you my answer when I get back to work." She thought of this quickly, but she thought it made good sense. That way, he could re-write the note, and change it to a marriage proposal.

"I could put it under your pillow, and when you wake up in my bed tomorrow morning, you can read it then, before we make love for the fourth time," he said with a perfectly straight face.

"Ha- ha, no," she said with an equally straight face.

"Well damn, then here," he said. He pulled her to a stop and took the note out of his pocket. "Take it now, and read it whenever you want, tomorrow, tonight while you're lying in my arms, basking in the afterglow of the best sex of your life, or even wait until Tuesday morning, when you come into work." He took the note, skimmed the pointed edge down her neck, to her collarbone, to the swell of her right breast, and he stuck it inside her dress.

He patted her breast, which made her flinch, and said, "That should keep it safe for a while."

She looked down at her bosom, and then back to his face. What was his game? She was now not only baffled, but also completely bewildered. She already knew what it said, and if he gave it to her now, he wouldn't be able to change it to a wedding proposal. She continued to frown, until he touched her lips with his thumb, caressing it back and forth.

"Now why do you seem sad again?" he asked seriously.

She wanted to repeat her sentence from earlier. She wanted to say, "Why don't you want to marry me?" since she knew this note really said, _**"I bought the resort, and I put it in both of our names, so now we can date and work together, Happy Birthday."**_

"Hermione?" he questioned. He suddenly felt a bit of remorse for causing her more distress, but if his new plan was to work, she had to continue to think that the note hadn't changed, and that he was lying about it. It also was contingent on her sleeping with him tonight, so he would have a chance to change the bloody note to a marriage proposal. If he had his wand, he could change it now, but he didn't.

He knew one thing: she had better sleep with him and not screw up all his plans this time.

She tried to smile, but it came out half-hearted. She took his hand in hers again and resumed their walk. "I'm fine, and I'll read it tomorrow, okay? Then Tuesday, when I come back to work, I'll let you know what I think about it. That's the most I can promise you."

He frowned, but tried to hide it. "If you're planning to wait to read it tomorrow that means you don't plan to sleep with me tonight, right?" He pouted, and she shrugged, with another slight grin on her face. He finally said, "Let's go to our bench then, okay? We can talk all night, since we won't be having sex. We'll stay out until the sunrise, and then I'll pack up and leave. We can talk and get to know each other better, since you don't plan to sleep with me tonight."

She thought it was funny how he repeated the phrase about her not sleeping with him tonight, and she laughed at the way he resigned himself to that fact, with a slight pout set in his mouth. She said, "Okay, on to our bench."

They held hands and walked until they reached the bench where they shared their first kiss. They saw Mr. and Mrs. Johnson sitting on the same bench, holding hands, bathed in the moonlight, the crystal white sand reflecting the light as it bounced off the moon, into the clear blue water. Mr. Johnson raised his hand and said, "Hello, young couple in love."

Draco leaned forward and shook the man's hand. "Oh, Heather and Derek, how nice to see you," Mrs. Johnson said. "Are you out enjoying a midnight stroll?"

"Well, yes, it's the end of Heather's birthday, and we were wrapping up our celebration," Draco said, as he pulled Hermione around to the front of the bench to stand before the elderly couple. "We were actually heading to this bench. You see, it's the first place where we kissed."

"How sweet," Mrs. Johnson proclaimed. "We're proud to share this bench with you. We consider it 'our' bench, too."

"And how smart of you, Derek, you married near her birthday," Mr. Johnson said. "Good show, old man, that way, you'll never forget your anniversary, or her birthday." He winked at Draco and then said to Hermione, "You know, it was exactly forty-seven years ago today, that this lovely woman made me the happiest man alive, and married me, much to the chagrin of our family and friends."

"They didn't approve?" Hermione asked, grasping Draco's hand harder.

Mrs. Johnson explained, "No dear. You see, as silly as it seems, we had just met here that very week. I was on holiday with my family, and he was working at one of the hotels, and we fell in love quickly, and at the end of my holiday, we married in that old cathedral in the village."

Draco looked at Hermione, his mouth open wide in shock. She nodded at him, affirming that she was surprised, too.

Mr. Johnson finished the story. "Yes, we weren't childhood sweethearts like you two. We barely knew each other, but we fell in love. You see, I pretended to be a guest at the hotel, instead of an employee, so I lied to her, but when she found out, she didn't care, because it was too late. We were already head-over-heels in love."

Mrs. Johnson laughed and said, "I wondered if I could ever trust him, seeing that he lied. I mean, he made up a fake name and everything, but it was fate, and the lies hardly mattered, because I could tell that he loved me truly, and that wasn't a lie. We came to this bench, the night before my family was to leave, and he told me everything, and then he asked me to marry him."

"I had already planned the wedding at the cathedral," her husband continued to explain, "and I told her if she wanted me as much as I wanted her, then we could go there immediately and become man and wife. If she didn't, then I would still love her all my days and we could do the sensible thing and date for a while, and get to know each other better, but it wouldn't change a thing, because eventually, she would still be my wife."

"That's sweet," Hermione responded. Draco smiled at her.

"And we come here every year to celebrate our anniversary, and each year, after midnight, we come to our bench, and wait for the dawn to come. We talk and kiss, and now that we're older, we reminisce about our life together, our children and grandchildren, and sometimes we still talk about our future," Mrs. Johnson said.

Mr. Johnson added, "Perhaps you two will come back here each year, to celebrate your anniversary. That would be nice."

"Yes, it would," Hermione agreed.

Draco brought Hermione's hand to his mouth and kissed the top. He turned back to the older couple and said, "Well, since this is your bench, and your anniversary, we won't impede on your solitude any longer. It was such a pleasure to meet you both."

He nodded to them, and Hermione smiled as she said goodbye. They walked back toward the resort, both of them looking back at the bench, at the same time.

They didn't say another word to each other until they reached the steps of the grand resort. When they climbed the steps, Draco pulled Hermione to a stop. She turned to face him, with him two steps below her. He pulled her to him, kissed her, and said, "I love you."

"You do?" she asked.

"Yes, I do," he stated. "And I really hope we do come back here each year to celebrate something or other. If not an anniversary, then we could commemorate our first kiss, or our first date, your birthday, or at the very least, the first time we made love."

Hermione laughed at his tenacity and said, "You do?"

"Yes, I do. Do you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Wait, I meant, do you love me," he asked, slightly confused again. "What were you agreeing to, because if it was the sleeping together part, that would be fine, as well."

She laughed, looked up toward the heavens, back into his face, placed her hands on his shoulders and said, "I do."

_A/N: I have two more chapters written, (There might be a love scene in the next chapter if Draco has his way), and I think after those two, there will be just four more, so I think six more chapters and that's all. Can you all believe this story is almost over? It feels like it just started. I'm excited about my new story, though._


	28. Chapter 28 Purpose

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 28: Purpose:**

They stood in silence for a moment after her enigmatic "I do". Finally, she cupped his cheek and said, "I meant that I do love you. I love you, Draco. I really, really do."

He would take that for now.

He walked past her on the stairs, not touching her, then looked back once and said, "Are you coming?"

"Draco, I don't want us to ruin a perfectly, wonderful weekend by sleeping together."

"I asked if you were coming." He took her hand again, a rather favourite pastime for him, and pulled her into the foyer. It was close to one in the morning, and the only other people around were the man behind the desk, one bellhop, and a man and women sitting on a sofa, heads together, hands clasped. Draco leaned toward Hermione and said, "I bet they're going to have sex tonight."

She grinned up at him and said, "Just because they're embracing on a sofa doesn't mean that they're going to have sex. Maybe it's a blind date."

He smirked and said, "Oh, I didn't mean the young couple. I meant the desk clerk and the bellhop."

She slapped his arm lightly as they finally entered the lifts.

He leaned against the back wall of the lift and said, "Seriously, why don't you want to sleep with me?"

She looked at the floor. She said, "I don't know if I can explain."

He hooked a finger under her chin, forced her to stare at him, and said, "Try."

Just then, the bell on the lift dinged, and the doors opened. He cocked his head toward the hall, to indicate that they should get out of the elevator. They were on his floor. He led her toward his room. They stood outside the double doors of the penthouse suite, one of only three suites on this floor. He now leaned against one of these doors. Pulling on one arm, he pulled her closer.

"Talk."

"Draco, you have to know that by age thirty, I have had relationships before, right?" she started.

"I didn't suppose you were a nun," he answered. She gave him an exasperated look and he said, "Again, I have to remind you that I know what a nun is."

"Shut up for a moment," she said with a slight smile. "What I mean is that, well, I've been hurt before."

"Okay."

"Really badly."

"More than once?" he asked.

"No, just one time, but I don't want to repeat it. I want everything to go right with us."

"Making love is right." She started to disagree, but he silenced her with a kiss. "Let me explain," he urged. He stood upright and pulled her tightly into his arms, wrapping them around her protectively. She looked up at him. "You just said that you loved me, and I love you. Yes, it is quick, yes, it started on a pretense, yes, we've already faced some hurdles, but that doesn't mean this can't work out between us. Making love is a natural progression of a relationship, besides," he grinned, "you might find that I'm really bad at it and want to throw me back."

"Not much experience, huh?" she joked.

"Not much," he said flippantly. "Maybe I'm a nun; did you ever think of that? Maybe you could be my teacher. You always did like to tell people what to do."

She put her face on his shoulder. He stroked her hair. "Draco." That was all she could think to say.

"I know, sweetheart," he answered.

He could spend a hundred-thousand minutes like this with her, and never tire of it. His life before her was inadequate. He was tempted, so tempted, to push open his door, pull her inside, and make love to her for the rest of the night…and the rest of their lives…despite her reservations. However, he knew she was different, and frankly that was part of her charm, and part of his purpose in seeking her out this weekend. So far, every other thing had worked itself out, so perhaps this would, too.

She looked up at him again, his gaze loving and questioning. She was uncertain as to what to do or say. He took care of her dilemma by saying, "Well, I hope you had a perfect birthday. I won't wake you tomorrow, since I have to leave so early." He kissed her forehead. "I'll slip the note under your door in the morning, and on Tuesday morning, we'll have a meeting in my office and discuss it."

He gave her an uncertain smile and then ended with, "Sorry for being a rotten date, and not showing you to your room, but I'm suddenly dead on my feet. You don't mind walking down on your own do you?" In his mind, he called himself a coward, but he couldn't walk her down. He knew he would try to trick her into making love, and he didn't want to use any more deception when it came to Hermione Granger.

She hesitated, before she said, "Umm, no, that's fine."

She moved from his embrace, when he reached out for the hand that he loved to hold so dearly. With his beautiful grey eyes shining brightly in the soft light of the hallway, he looked at her directly, kissed her hand and then leaned forward, stroked her face with his free hand, and with a swift kiss on her lips said, "Happy Birthday, my Granger."

She watched as he turned, opened his door, and enter. He shut the door behind him without a glance back. She hoped she hadn't made a mistake.

She started toward the lifts, chanting that in her mind. She suddenly felt dejected, and she knew that was probably how he was feeling, too. She rode the lifts down to her floor, feeling more and more on edge each second. The feeling of dread would not abate. Her chest felt constricted as she walked to the door of her suite. She leaned against the doorframe, and the empty, hollow feeling that she had felt for so long, which had filled her life for too many years, and was in fact the whole purpose of the recent changes in her life, returned. She had felt empty for so long, yet here was someone who wanted to fill that emptiness, and she was turning him away.

Although he may not have said that was how he felt, she knew that was what she felt.

She walked back and forth across the small sitting room in her suite, mulling everything over in her head, and with a purpose and a new lease on life, she finally made a decision. She threw open her door, and practically flew down the hallway back toward the lifts. If she didn't do this last thing, and it ended tomorrow, she would feel worse than if she never took the chance to change in the first place! Even if it meant that her heart might shatter in a million pieces, she was going to do something that was finally, truly, un-Hermionish!

Draco took a heaving, deep breath when he closed the door on her sweet face. He felt disconsolate and sullen, but he knew he had no reason to feel that way. She was fragile and he would do everything in his power to make sure he didn't mess this up. It was the least he could do. He had lied to her a lot this weekend, but not making love to her, while it was stupid in his mind, it was also honest, and it was something she needed, and he actually respected her for it. He had failed at so many things in his life, and usually his money or his name got him out of his messes, but neither would repair the damage that he might do to her, so he didn't want to risk making a mistake that he couldn't repair, not with her.

He paced along the floor, behind the sofa, and shrugged out of his jacket. He forgot about the note in the pocket for a moment. He threw the jacket on the floor and loosened his tie.

Taking another deep breath he prayed to all that was holy (and all that was not), that she would never ever find out his last little bit of deception. He almost forgot about it himself, and was shocked when it occurred during their walk, but by then he could do nothing to stop it, and it seemed harmless enough at the time. Actually, he had one last, small piece of deception to perform. He had to change the note, but he knew that was one lie that she would like.

He slipped off his shoes, and while he unbuttoned his shirt, he walked over toward the jacket on the floor. Before he bent down to pick it up, he suddenly felt ashamed for leaving her out in the hallway the way he had. What an arse he was! Just because he didn't get his way, he didn't walk her to the door? How stupid was he? He kicked the jacket and threw his tie on the floor. Shame washed over him. He was going to go down there, tell her that he loved her again, give her the note now, as it was, and then ask her in person to marry him. He was no longer afraid of failure, because she gave him courage. He went over to his jacket, picked it up from the floor, and removed the note. He started to unfold it when he heard a knock on his door. He crammed it back in the pocket, and turned toward the sound.

A tightening of his abdomen, and a shuddering of his heart, revealed to him that it was Hermione on the other side of that door. Every nerve and fiber in his body was at war with each other. He spent what felt like hours in agony on whether or not to answer. His heart was beating so profoundly that it throbbed. She knocked again.

He waited, unsure what to do. She knocked a third time and even said his name. "Draco?"

He padded quietly across the dark room and placed his forehead on the smooth wood of the door and said in his mind, "Go away," although that was the last thing he wanted her to do. He swung open the door.

Then time stood still.

They stared at each other, wordlessly hoping that this was real, true, and right. He reached out his hand, only to draw it back. This time, she took his hand, instead of the other way around. She was drawn across the threshold and once she was in the room, he kicked the door shut with his bare foot. His chest was bare, as his shirt hung open on his shoulders. She placed her hands on his chest, and leaned forward and kissed the center, above his beating heart.

He walked backwards toward the bedroom, pulling her along, a smile finally reaching his mouth, after having traveled from his heart. He sat on the edge of the bed, and she stood between his legs. He reached up, unzipped her dress and let it fall to pool around her feet. She stepped out of it, removed her shoes, and then stood before him in all her glory.

She was magnificent, but then, he knew she would be. His gaze didn't idle on her bare breasts and stomach for long, because he looked back into her eyes, reached up and pulled on her hair, his fingers combing lightly through it. His hands went to the back of her head, drawled her face to his, and he kissed her with a lingering sweetness and slowness that she didn't even notice when he pulled her down to sit on his knee.

His fingers went from her face, down her neck, to brush the top swell of her breasts. He kissed her neck, then her collarbone, and said, "Now what shall I do with you?"

It was a rhetorical question, but of course, because he needed no instructions. This was something Draco Malfoy was quite adroit at doing. He had been having sex since he was sixteen years old, but he had never in his entire life made love to a woman, and the reason was simple. He had never been in love.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, because the silence and stillness in the room was becoming too much for her.

"Just that I really do love you, I guess," he said without airs, without jocularity, and without any pretense or humour. "I really do, and I want to say in advance, that I'm sorry for anything I might have done this weekend that goes against your moral code."

She almost laughed and then said, "My goodness, what _are_ you planning on doing to me?"

He laughed as well, then he palmed her breast, and she closed her eyes. He meant he was sorry for an ever so slight transgression, a mere little fable, a slight fabrication, so small it was barely a lie, that he might have committed this weekend that she had yet to find out about, but was probably going to find out about someday. He just wanted to apologize in advance. When she did find out, she was sure to feel a maelstrom of emotions, so an early apology seemed apropos, even though she didn't yet know to what he was referring.

"Just remember that I'm sorry in advance," he said again, before he kissed above her breasts. "You might find out that there's another slight lie floating around me somewhere, and just on the off chance that it's discovered, I apologize, now let's commence to the sex."

She laughed, took his face in her hands and said, "I accept your apology, if you promise you'll get on with it already."

He laughed, stood up, but before she could fall to the floor off his lap, he picked her up and threw her on the middle of the bed, and then he removed the rest of his clothing, much to her admiration.

Once he was completely naked, he leaned over the bed, his fingertips fanned across the valley and planes of her mostly nude form, the pale flesh appearing to glow in the soft light of the night moon whispering through the curtains. He kneeled beside her body, kissed her with an intensity that almost overwhelmed her, and then he reached down and removed the last of her clothing, the satin of her knickers whispering down her legs.

He began lightly caressing her breasts, mumbling her name and other such nonsense, and she almost felt drugged by the lull of his voice. Her body started to stir and tingle, she felt flush, her heart started to beat wildly inside her chest, and all he had done so far was to lightly touch her and kiss her.

Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms and then his chest. She moved both of her thumbs over his nipples and he moaned into her mouth. His mouth moved from her face, to her throat and neck. With a slowness that seemed almost cruel, rather than deliberate, he kissed around each breast, never lingering on one and never touching the centers.

She started to move underneath him and she nervously laughed and said, "You're killing me."

"Oh what a sweet, sweet death it shall be, my Granger," he mumbled against the sensitive skin of her stomach. He finally took one of her nipples in his mouth, and she placed both hands in his hair, hugging his face closer to her when his mouth closed around the aching center. His right hand moved down her stomach and he grasped her hip before moving lower, down her thigh, then back up, between her legs.

Her fingertips dug into his shoulders and she almost told him to stop, but honestly, that would serve no purpose, and he probably wouldn't be able to stop anyway, and she didn't _really _want him to stop, she just didn't know how to process everything she was feeling for the man on top of her.

Her hips thrust upwards to meet the demands of his hand, sexual impulses swirling around her core, shock reverberating around her entire being. His mouth came back to hers, urgent, seeking, demanding, and then retreating.

He moved his mouth down her body and she realized that she was not participating in the least and that hardly seemed fair. She said, "Shall I do anything."

Draco Malfoy lifted his head, looked at her strangely, and couldn't help himself - he started to laugh. "You are a right funny, gal, Hermione Granger. Shall you do anything, indeed? Yes, shut up and let me continue." His mouth moved over her hips and pelvic bone, and she could tell that he was still laughing, because she felt the laughter between his kisses, and he even said once more, "Funny little thing."

So she surrendered totally to him, she couldn't think clearly anyway. This new passion was all consuming and it thrilled and excited her. She had many lovers, but no one made her feel this special, or held her in such a high regard.

She realized that she was completely and utterly enthralled with the man on the bed with her. She was still thinking about how incredible it was merely to be with him, when he entered into her. She began to pulse around his throbbing erection, and she could no longer form coherent thought. She would marvel at the wonderment of falling in love with such a man later.

She arched underneath him as he cupped her backside, to draw her closer. Her knees were bent and her legs partially around his hips. He tried to support his weight with his arms. He demanded that she open her eyes to look at him. She did, but then he closed his. She bit her lip, moaned, and began to crest, all the while watching his face. His pleasure plastered on his face, and she wanted to memorize it. He took her to new heights with each deep, slow, thrust. She soon matched his rhythm, as it seemed he was languidly drawing the final act out to torture her.

Soon, she was spiraling out of control. Okay, so she had orgasms before, but seriously, nothing as intense as this. She wanted to remember this feeling forever. She even cried out, which later would embarrass her, but at the moment seemed perfectly fitting. The feeling was close to pain, and when she cried out his name, he finally opened his eyes again, said, "I know," (which she found odd), and then they exploded together in a sweet delirium which was bordering on the obsolete.

He fell down on top of her and for a second he wanted to laugh again, but only because he had never experience a release such as that. Bloody hell, making love was so much better than sex. He would have to make sure he only made love from now on, which meant she was his forever. She might view it differently. She might think she was 'stuck' with him, but he knew how lucky he was to have found her, even if he had to lie and manipulate things in the beginning to make her his.

"So," he said breathlessly. He sighed, pulled on to him and she placed her head on his chest.

When no other words came after his feeble little, 'So' she said, "That was pretty good, huh?" She leaned over him and kissed his nipple.

"Wasn't it though," he agreed. "So much better than I thought."

She hit his chest and said, "Hey!"

"I meant, oh hell, who knows what I meant. I can barely speak, let alone think."

She soon slept, but he remained awake. He remained awake the rest of the night, merely watching her as she slept. He fantasized about their futures, their lives together, even about all the fun they would have making love again. The first light of dawn started to play around the room, washing over her sweet repose. He stared at her for a long time, and then finally, he shook her arm.

"Granger, I have to leave soon, but I think we need to talk first." She opened her eyes and smiled, her arms stretching over her head.

"Do you want me to read the note before you leave? Is that it?" she asked.

Bloody hell, and damn it all! He forgot all about the effing note! He spent hours staring at her while she slept, all the while, the note was in the other room in his jacket pocket, waiting to be changed to a marriage proposal, and now he ran out of time. He knew that she had already read the note, so she knew it wasn't already a marriage proposal, but still, he thought it would be sweet to change it.

In addition, he wanted her answer before he told her his last, little lie.

And now it was almost too late.

"About the note," he said.

_(Dum, dum,, dum...)_

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* * *

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A/N: Okay everyone, don't kill me, but I forgot this was ready to be posted. In fact, the next chapter is already in the document manager upload section, too. I thought I already posted this one, and I was wondering (once again) why I didn't get any reviews for it, and then I saw that it wasn't posted. Sorry. HA! I'm on a long stretch at work again, that's my only excuse. I'll post the next one in a couple of days.


	29. Chapter 29 Admissions

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 29: Admissions:**

"About the note," he said.

She said, "Hold that thought." She scrambled out from under the sheet, dipped down to the floor, grabbed his shirt, threw it quickly over her body, and ran to the bathroom.

He propped himself on his side, on his elbow, to wait for her to come back. He only had about two hours before he was set to leave. He had a very important meeting this morning, and he couldn't miss it. He was to finalize the buying of this very resort. She opened the bathroom door, peered out at him and then sprang back to the bed. She threw the sheet over her and then mirrored his body. She propped herself on her elbow, on her side, facing him.

Lying side by side, staring at each other, Draco on his left, Hermione on her right, he sucked in a breath, about to tell her the truth about everything…the note, a slight falsehood that happened last night, and one other thing, when she said, "You make me so happy."

That little admission shocked him a bit. He felt in awe of the woman by his side. He knew that she made him happy, but seriously, did she really feel the same? He reached over and tucked her hair behind her shoulder. He said, "What really made you want to change things in your life?"

"Unhappiness, hence my recognition of my present happy state," she said lightly. She answered plainly, and succinctly, and he wondered what had made her so unhappy in the past. That one word, 'unhappiness' was both vague and yet broad at the same time. It could mean so many things, to so many different people.

He asked, "You were unhappy?" He entwined his fingers with hers, and placed their joined hands between them on the bed.

"I was," she said. "I was stuck in one place. I was complacent, and something was definitely lacking in my life." She moved to her back, and he let go of her hand, to place his on her stomach, over his shirt, which she still wore. "I thought if I changed my job, my hair, my clothes, my house, that I would find what was missing in my life."

"And did you?" he asked. He brought his hand up and twirled a piece of her hair around his finger.

"No, I didn't find what I was missing by any of those things, but I did find what I was missing in my life, when I came here this weekend," she said.

He grinned, pointed his finger toward his chest, and said, "Might that be because of me?"

"Award five points to Mr. Ego," she said with a small laugh. "Yes, I was wrong to think that those types of things would make me happy. Happiness can't be bought or borrowed or bartered. It must be given freely, and received the same way."

"I don't know. I've bought happiness before," he joked. He leaned forward and bit her shoulder, and then kissed her neck. "I know that when I buy shiny things, I feel immense happiness."

"True happiness?" she asked.

"Oh well, now true happiness, that's different. You're right, there, Granger. You can't borrow or beg or barter true happiness." He put his nose next to hers and said, "True happiness can only be stolen."

She giggled. "No, it can only be given freely by one person to another."

"Or stolen," he amended.

"No stealing," she declared. She propped back up on her elbow and said, "I think I was empty, more than unhappy. Something was definitely missing from my life."

He couldn't help but smiled. She stroked his face and he moved his mouth to kiss her palm. "I've always thought you were a smart lass, but now I think you're brilliant to come to such a conclusion," he herald. He reached over to stroke her face. He found that he couldn't stop touching her, nor did he want to. "You make me happy, too. More than I deserve, I'm sure. You fill me with happiness. I'm full up to there," and he put his hand above his head to illustrate.

"I always knew you were full of something," she remarked with a laugh.

He tickled her and she swatted his hands away, pulling her knees up to her chest and laughing aloud. "STOP!" she said between laughs. She put her hands in her hair and said, "I look a mess, don't I?"

He examined her for a moment and said, "I was going to make a joke, and say yes you do, and that I'm shocked at you, but I have to admit that you look very sexy this morning. You're sexy with your hair all mussed, your face free of makeup, your freckles showing, your eyes bright and shiny, and my shirt over your….no, that part is a lie. Take the shirt off and you will be completely sexy." He tried to unbutton the shirt and she hit his hands again.

She continued to laugh, and sat up in bed. He soon joined her and she said, "No one would ever describe me as sexy. You don't have to say it either. I know you love me. But, no more lies, okay?"

"I just described you as sexy, so don't say that no one would ever do it, and I would never lie about something so important," he defended, "And I have to tell you, I am an expert on sexy things."

"But you lie so often and well," she said lightly, "as you've proven time and time again this weekend. You are a proficient liar, but I do think that your avowal about being an expert on sexy things is true, since you're the epitome of sexy."

"Stop using big words and tell me what's sexy about me," he said, excited. He put the pillow on his lap, over the sheet, and placed his back up against the headboard. He put his hands behind his head and said, "I'm waiting."

"What words were big words?" she asked, getting off track. "Epitome? Proficient? Avowal?"

"Take your pick and move on to the matter at hand. What's sexy about me?" he urged.

"Okay," she began, "The way you stand. The way your hand goes in your hair. Your smarmy smile. Your cocky attitude and swagger."

"You're barking mad!" He laughed. "The way I stand? Please clarify! I stand upright, and I don't drag my knuckles, like other Homo sapiens. What do you mean about the hair thing?"

She hid her face in the pillow on his lap and laughed. She looked back up at him and said, "Okay. I like the way you lean against things, as if you don't have a care in the world. It's barmy of me, I know, but I think that's sexy. I love the way you are always messing with your hair. Do you even know that you do that?"

He took both his hands and messed up her hair. "Like this?' he asked, still messing.

"No," she said. She moved her head to the side to get out of his clutches.

"So, I lean, do I?" he asked.

She said, "Oh never mind. It's like you're confident in the way you look, and you carry yourself with so much poise, and it's sexy."

"Do you like any of my physical attributes?" He raised his eyebrows up and down. He removed the pillow from his lap and pointed at the slightly tented sheet. "And be specific, because you don't want to hurt his feelings."

"You're the mad one," she said. She scooted back down in the bed and yawned.

He scooted down and said, "Don't have the false impression that you're going back to sleep, missy. I don't have to leave until another hour, so I'd like to have sex again, before I shower." He raised his eyebrows up and down again.

"I also like the way you raise your eyebrows when you say something sexy or suggestive," she said, tracing one of his eyebrows with her finger. "I love the way your mouth goes up on one side when you smirk." Her finger traced his mouth and lifted the corner. He bit her finger lightly and she yelped.

"It's called a smile, not a smirk, thank you, and I realize its one of my sexist qualities," he lauded. He leaned toward her and kissed her neck. He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed each finger before saying, "I love your hand."

"I realized that a while ago," she said with a slight grin.

He ignored her snide remark and said, "It fits so perfectly in mine."

"You know, that first day in the lift at your company, you held onto my wrist after you stepped on my toe, even after you knew it was me," she reminisced.

"I did?" he asked. "I honestly don't recall that. I did?"

"Yes, and you held my hand after the staff meeting last Wednesday."

"I recall that one. I didn't want you to escape," he said wistfully. "I still don't."

"Then you better hold on tight," she urged.

He held both her hands and pulled her over to lie on his stomach. Her body pressed into his and he said, "I intend to. I'm never letting you go, you know."

Suddenly she said, "Shall I read the note before you leave today?"

He hadn't changed the effing note yet! He had totally forgotten about it. "No, it can wait until I leave," he suggested. And it could wait until he changed it to a marriage proposal.

"I thought it was part of my birthday," she said with almost a whine. She really wanted to read it, and show him how happy she would be with his suggestion. She wanted to show him how much it meant to her.

He answered, "Well, your birthday's officially over, so you might as well wait until we get back to read it." He started to scramble out of bed and said, "Why don't I just take it back with me, and keep it safe, and when Tuesday comes, you meet me in my office, and read the stupid thing, once and for all, right?"

She sat back up and held onto his arm, so he couldn't leave the bed. "Why wait? You originally wanted me to read it last night."

"I changed my mind," he said.

"I've changed mine, too," she said. "Come back to bed and let me show you." He cocked his head to the side, and then climbed back into bed. Desire started anew between them and small caresses and gentle kisses began to build in intensity, and soon their kisses were passionate and long, and their hands insistent, and they made love again. The pleasure and passion was beyond compare the second time.

Hermione fell immediately back to sleep.

She rested her head on his chest, and he put his arms around her back. He was about to initiate sex a third time, when he caught a glimpse of the clock. He really had to get a shower. He groaned. "Hermione, I'm sorry, but I really have to shower and get ready to go." He moved out from under her. She remained on her stomach and reached for his hand.

"Don't go," she said in her sleep-induced stupor.

He leaned down, and kissed her cheek. "I have to. Tell you what, why don't you stay here in my room. Relax, read a good book, have a long bath later, and you can even do some nude sunbathing out on the balcony. I'll have your things brought here. One of the bellhops can pack your things up and bring them here. You just stay here, get some more sleep, and then enjoy the rest of your day, and then I'll see you tomorrow at work." He kissed her cheek. "You will come back to me, Granger, so I don't want to tell you goodbye, ever, so this is merely a see you later."

He leaned over her; she turned to her side, and he gave her an unforgettable kiss.

"Thanks for the best birthday I've had in thirty years, and the most perfect blind date, Draco," she said to him with the sweetest smile he had ever seen.

He leaned over her once more, and with his mouth near her ear, he said, "No, I should thank you, but I won't. Not yet." He would wait to thank her when she accepted his marriage proposal.

She decided she would thank him soon, too. She would thank him for making her finally feel like a new Hermione.

He took his suitcase, which he packed the night before, and slipped off to the bathroom. She admired his body as he went.

She sat up, got out of bed, and decided that she would rather go get her things herself, instead of having a bellhop pack them. She slipped out of the bed, looked at her dress, and decided it would be too much trouble to put it on again. She walked out to the outer room, saw his jacket, and slipped it over his long white shirt. Then she went down to her room.

He showered and slipped out the door, anticipating seeing her again tomorrow.

She packed up her belongings and brought them back up to the penthouse. Then she slipped out of his jacket, kept on his shirt, and settled back into bed. She hugged his pillow. It smelled like him.

He totally forgot about changing the note before he left. It was still in the pocket of his jacket. She forgot about it, too.


	30. Chapter 30 Remember

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 30: Remember:**

Draco missed her already. He felt something akin to pain being away from her. If that wasn't love, he didn't know what was. He walked across his office, threw his suitcase in the corner, and sat down at his desk with a heavy sigh. Everything would work out. He had to remind himself of that fact every minute since he had left the resort this morning.

He sat at his desk, and remembered her first day of work, a week ago today.

_He was anxious that Monday morning, knowing that she would be there any minute. He even went to wait for her outside of Adrian's office, because she would have to go there first. He stopped two of his employees as they were walking past, to talk with them. He didn't even know their names, and he could care less about talking with them, but still he asked them what they were working on, and they started to talk to him. He paid them no mind. He was waiting for Hermione Granger; he just didn't want to look as if he was waiting for her._

_Even he thought that was odd. He hadn't sought out a woman's affection in such a long time. Usually women chased him. Besides, she was going to be his new employee, so he couldn't pursue her. Soon, she would sign a stupid employment contract, stating that they couldn't date, so why did any of this matter anyway? She probably wouldn't want to date him, would she?_

_He heard the sound of high heels on the polished tile floor. He looked up, as did the other two men. One of them said to the others, "What a dish."_

"_She's a looker, alright."_

_Draco turned back toward the men, unsure of what to say to them. He wanted to tell them to keep their eyeballs to themselves, but that would sound mental. She finally noticed him and she smiled - a smile that reached all the way to her eyes. A smile that crossed space and time, reached into his heart, and traveled from his heart to his lips, forcing him to smile in return._

"_You look bright and chipper this morning," he said to her. He turned to the two men, and told them they could leave. He wasn't about to introduce her to them. He didn't even want them to know her name. Her name belonged to her and her alone. Well, and maybe to him, too. "You must be excited about the prospect of working with me, huh?" he asked._

_She smiled wider and said, "Well, I'm happy about my new job, if that's what you mean."_

"_But you're excited about working with me," he said again._

"_I'm excited about my large new salary, even if I don't know what it is yet, but I'm sure it's grand," she returned._

"_Yes, but if you really had to categorize your excitement, it would be working with me, right?" he asked with a gleam._

"_I'm excited to wear my new clothes," she yielded._

"_And working with me," he countered._

"_And my new title," she added._

_He leaned closer. "And working with me," he said with conviction._

"_And…" that was as far as she got. He actually placed his hand over her mouth. His fingers touched her slightly parted lips. He leaned closer. "And working with me." It was no longer a question. He said it leisurely and deliberately, as if he was stating a fact in which he wanted her to agree, because he was excited to be working with her. His hand slipped from her mouth slowly, his fingers skimming the skin of her face and neck, on its way back to him._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Remembering all of that, which happened only one short week ago, he knew one eternal truth. Bless his soul; he probably fell in love with her that day. Adrian entered Draco's office, a file in his hand, and he said, "Malfoy, you're back."

"I told you I'd be back on Monday morning. I just got back twenty minutes ago," Draco said while shuffling papers on his desk.

"How did things work out with Granger?" Adrian asked. He sat down in front of the desk.

"Did I tell you to sit?' Draco asked, as he raised one eyebrow.

"Did I tell you, I don't care?" Adrian said back with a laugh. "Now, do I need to find another Director of Marketing and Development, or is Miss Granger coming back?"

"I'll tell you Tuesday," Draco said, standing up and walking around his desk to sit on the top of it in front of his friend.

"Why do I have to wait until Tuesday?" Adrian quizzed.

"That's when I'll find out," he answered back.

Adrian stood up and laughed. He said, "The marriage plan didn't work out did it? I told you it probably wouldn't."

"It was your bloody idea," Draco said pointedly.

"All I said, before you kicked me off your yacht, was for you to find a solution to your problem, so we wouldn't have to fire her," Adrian reminded him.

"No," Draco began, "You said to find a solution to my problem even if I had to marry her, or set her up in a business. Well, I tried to do one of those options, and it blew up in my face, and the other offer is just now on the table."

"I take it she isn't Mrs. Malfoy, so what offer is on the table?" Adrian asked his friend.

"I bought the hotel, and this morning I put it in her name. I was going to retain half of it, but I gave it all to her instead. Last minute decision, really," he answered. He went back to sit down.

Adrian seemed appalled. "MALFOY!" he yelled. "You can't do that! If that resort is under the umbrella of Malfoy Industries, then giving it to her will go against the employment contract! If she quits or is fired, she can't work for any of our subsidiaries either, or in a field that would be in competition with us."

"I bought it with my own money, not as a business investment, and the last time I looked, our business doesn't have any resort holdings, so she won't be in competition with us. I was going to buy it, put it in both our names, and let her work there, as CEO, but I decided that I wanted to give it all to her."

Adrian was trying to process everything in his mind when Draco said, "By the way, I had our lawyers draw up papers to change our company's name to DM Industries. It was her suggestion, but I liked it."

"I suggested you remove the Malfoy from our corporation's name in the beginning, but you told me to remove my arse from your office when I did so," Adrian reminded him.

"Yes, well, maybe if you had been wearing a bathing suit when you suggested it, like she did, I might have listened, or was that when we were naked in the spa? I don't recall." Draco looked down at the papers on his desk again, but he immediately looked up when Adrian slammed his hand on the desk.

"MALFOY!" he repeated. "What the hell happened this weekend?"

"I never kiss and tell," Draco said with a laugh. He stood up and said, "But if all goes well, she'll accept the resort as a sideline, accept my hand in marriage forever, forgive me for one tiny, little, outstanding lie, which I have yet to reveal to her, and you won't have to hire another director of such and such, because she'll be my wife. My wife can work with me and not be in breach of contract. Now, go back to work, you slacker."

Before he left Draco's office he said, "What was the one outstanding lie?"

Draco frowned and said, "Well, you remember that older couple I told you that Hermione and I lied to at breakfast the other morning. The ones from the resort? Well, I asked them for a favour, and they were gracious enough to do it for me, except I'm afraid they might have been a bit late with their lie. Yet, all things considered, it might still help me in my quest for Granger."

"Your quest?" Adrian asked. "This isn't just a game to you, is it? I mean, it wasn't just to see if you could conquer her, was it? You do care for her, right? I recall what you said last Tuesday, you know, on her second day of work. You told me that you thought she was a challenge, and it was a challenge you were up for, and I reminded you of the employment contract."

"Get out of my office," Draco said to the other man's ramblings.

"No, Malfoy!" Adrian said. He finally felt as if he was beginning to realize why Draco was after Hermione. "You asked me what she said when she read the contract, and I told you that she hadn't even read it. You smiled, you bastard. Then you said all that rubbish about her being a challenge! Business aside man, are you that caught up in the past, that jealous of her, that you would use her like this?"

"Please, offend me some more, Pucey!" Draco said with spite. "Why don't you call my father a twat, my mother a bitch, and question my legitimacy? That would hurt less." Draco threw his hands up in the air. "Of course, this isn't just a game! I love her, and I don't have a single regret about any of this! I don't know why I love her, since it has been so quick, but I do, and that's why I did all of this! Falling in love with her wasn't even very quick, when I think on it. I've known her for most of my life, so falling in love actually came quite easily. Now, run along and play, Adrian. Some people have to work for a living," Draco said with a wave of his hand.

"And some people might not be you, Malfoy," Adrian snorted. Adrian wasn't happy with Malfoy's declaration. Instead of going back to work, he decided to go back to the resort and talk to Hermione. He had Draco's interest at heart, and the interest of their company in mind. More than that, though, he liked Hermione, and he wanted to make sure that Draco had been completely truthful to her about everything. He was going to find out what the outstanding lie was, and then he was going to make sure Draco's intentions were true. He wouldn't have Malfoy ruin another perfectly good employee because he wanted her. Malfoy couldn't play with her feelings just because he viewed her as a challenge, or a game, and especially not if he lied to her!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione was having a perfectly wonderful, lazy day. She took Malfoy up on his suggestion, ordered room service, ate on the patio of the penthouse, and had a long bath in the spa-size tub. She was now on the beach, under an umbrella, with a good book in her hand. However, she couldn't concentrate on the book, even though it was a very good book. It was one she had read before, about a young telepath in the southern part of the United States, who tangled with Vampires. One of the vampires reminded her of Draco. He even had blonde hair. It was an interesting story, but she couldn't concentrate on it. She could only think about last night.

Wow, was her response to last night. Wow, wow, wow.

She felt giddy like a schoolgirl. She remembered how she danced around her room on Friday night after only his kiss. Making love with him was so much better, but since she was on the beach, in front of so many people, she had better just do a dance in her head. She didn't want people to think she was crazy.

She was in love. Hermione Granger was in love. Love, Love, Love…all she needed was, love, love, love. She closed the book, turned slightly in the chaise lounge, reached up and closed the umbrella, and put a straw hat on her head. She stretched out her legs, closed her eyes, and basked in the warmth of the sun, and in the memory of their love. Since she was able to do a happy dance in her head, perhaps she could relive each and every second of their lovemaking in her mind, if she gave it enough thought.

Yes, she had only reconnected with him a week ago…exactly a week ago, yet that hardly mattered. She had known him much longer, and time and love didn't necessarily go hand in hand. Ever since the encounter in the lifts, that first day she went looking for a job, she knew that she wanted more than just a job, and she was glad that she finally had some clarity about that fact.

She remembered that on her first day at the job, she was on her way to meet Adrian to sign all her papers, and she felt whimsical and excited due to her recent capriciousness. Too excited to read the very important employment contract, which was now the bane of her existence, and the reason for this from day one was Draco Malfoy himself.

It all started with an encounter her first day at work.

_Hermione was so excited! She was starting her new job. She picked out a new outfit to wear. Tight brown skirt with a thin, pink vertical stripe, a v-neck, silk, pink blouse, and taupe pumps. Her hair was down, and her spirits were high._

_She even painted her toenails! She got on the lifts and a sense of pleasure washed over her, as she remembered that day when he grabbed her wrist and stepped on her toe! Who knew that single painful moment would be the start of something so wonderful?_

_She walked down the hallway toward Adrian's office, her shoes clicking on the floor as she walked. She couldn't help but smile, because she felt happy and alive for perhaps the first time in her entire life. Was her happiness due to her new job? Or was there something a bit more?_

_She wasn't sure she wanted to examine the other possibility for her happiness. That other reason was currently deep in conversation with two of his employees, right outside of Adrian's office, and his initials were D.M._

_No, surely just seeing Draco again wasn't the reason for her happiness. Surely not. Probably not. Maybe not. Maybe? Could be. Probably was._

_If nothing else, he was very cute. She wanted to laugh. He said, "You look bright and chipper this morning, Granger." He turned to the other two men he was with, said, "You two need to get to work," didn't bother to introduce them, and then he turned back to her. He said, "You must be excited about the prospect of working with me."_

_They exchanged a few witty barbs back and forth about the reason for her excitement, though the teasing suddenly stopped when he had the gall to place his hand directly over her mouth, his fingers touching her lips. He said slowly and knowingly, "And working with me." He nodded his head along with each word._

_She felt the seconds rush by, as a blush went from her neck to her cheeks. He removed his hand gradually, which was good, because she was afraid if he kept it there a second longer, she might faint. His fingertips traveled feathery soft from her lips, to her cheek, her jaw, her neck, before he drew it away._

_What was that all about? She was so obsessed with her thoughts that instead of agreeing with his theory that she was happy to be working with him, (because the truth was, he was right, she __**was**__ happy to be working with him), all she could think of was that he had probably gotten lipstick on his hand._

_For that reason, she said to him seconds later, "You probably got lipstick on your hand." She immediately felt stupid for saying it._

_He looked at his hand, and there was a slight tinge of burgundy stained on his second and third fingers, and then he shrugged and said, "Oh well, I was bound to get your lipstick on me eventually."_

_Before either could say another word, Adrian stuck his head out of the doorway and said, "Miss Granger, would you care to come with me. We have some paperwork for you to fill out, and then I'll show you your office."_

_She nodded, started to walk into his office and then turned back. Malfoy was still standing there. "Draco, what did you mean by that statement?"_

_Adrian looked back out and said, "Coming?"_

"_She's talking to the boss," Draco said. His eyes never left hers. Still staring at Hermione, Draco said, "I'll send her right in."_

_Adrian rolled his eyes and went back in his office._

_Neither said a word for the longest moment. "Malfoy, did you say what I thought you said?"_

_He reached in his pocket, drew out a handkerchief, wiped his fingers, stuffed the square piece of cloth back in his pocket, and said, "Hurry up in there, because I want to be the one to show your office to you, okay? Just skim through the papers. No reason to really read them, because they're just standard forms, okay?"_

_She nodded, and turned toward Adrian's office. She leaned back out to watch Draco as he walked down the hallway. He pulled the handkerchief back out of his pocket, and was examining it when he turned the corner, and was soon out of sight._

_She went into Adrian's office and hurried through the papers, without reading a single one._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was his fault she didn't read the contract, not because he told her to hurry through them, and not because he told her not to read them. She wasn't influenced that easily. It was his fault, because she probably fell in love with him that day, and that was all she could think about at that moment. At least, that was how she remembered it.

Whilst in the middle of her reminiscing and daydreams, she heard a familiar voice behind her.


	31. Chapter 31 Facts

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 31: Facts:**

Hermione was in the middle of remembering her first day at work, when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

It was Mrs. Johnson. She was about to remove her hat to say hello, when she heard the woman say, "It must not have worked, if you say that he left this morning without her."

Hermione almost stopped breathing. She wondered if the woman was talking about her and Draco. She sat upright in the chair, and pulled the hat down lower, so not to be discovered.

Mrs. Johnson sat in a chair close to her, and her husband sat by his wife's side. He said, "I think he has a contingency plan for Miss Granger, and after all, we were late with our little story. Draco asked us to tell her the fable of how we met yesterday at breakfast, when they were pretending to be newlyweds, because he thought that would get her thinking about marriage, but we forgot. We might have been the ones that ruined it for him, because he had planned the whole surprise wedding for right after."

"Oh dear," his wife said. "Do you think it's our fault that she didn't marry him yesterday?"

"Maybe, but I think she'll still marry him. I saw him before he left this morning, when he signed the papers to buy the resort from us, and he told me that he had given her a note offering her the hotel, as a back up plan in case they didn't wed, but that he was going to change it to a marriage proposal,. Although he's convinced that she's already read it, he still thinks that she'll think, and these are his words not mine, but he thinks she'll think it's endearing to change it at the last moment. They'll still marry. Mark my words. It's a fact. I even have money ridding on it."

"With whom did you bet?" she asked with a smile.

"Malfoy. He bet that she'll marry him before the month's up, and I bet that she'll marry him before the week's over." He laughed.

"You bet on everything," she said back, also with a laugh. "You both bet on the same thing! They are so sweet together. However, if she's already read the note, and she told him she hasn't, that might cause a bit a trouble. She shouldn't have lied like that, but seriously, he lies so often, does it matter?"

"Probably not," Mr. Johnson declared.

Mrs. Johnson continued. "I have to admit, when he first told us this silly plan of his the other night, that they were going to pretend to us that they were newlyweds, and for us to tell him that our relationship started with a lie that we didn't know each other before marriage, I thought he was mad. I mean, think about it, Louis, we've known him since he was a lad, and he always gets his way, so I shouldn't have doubted him. Still, I don't approve of the way he's gone about it. Lies get you nowhere."

"His heart's in the right place," her husband rebuked. "He loves her, I'm sure. It all started with a lie, when he stood in for her blind date. I think he called it a date by proxy. Yes, he probably could have won her over without the lies, but who knows how long that might have taken. She might have picked her job over him, being a modern woman and all, besides, she'll never be the wiser, and the end result is all that matters."

"But I regret that we lied along with him, dear," she said.

"It was one little lie. So what if we knew they weren't really married when they pretended to be the other morning? So what if we told her a little tale, skewing the facts a bit? So what if we knew each other for five years before we married? We really did meet here at the resort, when I was working here for my father, and you were on holiday. We really did get married at the cathedral in the village, notwithstanding that it was five years later. We really do come here every year. The rest might have been fabrications, but the most important things were truths," Louis remarked.

Hermione didn't know what to think or feel. She wanted to run away, but she didn't want to be discovered, and also, she wanted to continue to listen.

"Did he offer you the price we wanted for the place?" she asked.

"And more," he said with a laugh. "And get this; he put the entire thing in her name, even though I told him that might be a mistake. What if she finds out his little deception involving us? She might take the resort and run, and he'll have no marriage, no Miss Granger, and he'll be out a lot of money."

"Oh dear," Mrs. Johnson repeated. "We'll just have to hope that doesn't happen."

Hermione had heard enough. She threw her legs over the side of her chair, picked up her things, and with her hat still covering most of her face she walked briskly into the resort.

She was so confused. She couldn't make heads or tails of what she had just heard. Apparently, the Johnsons owned the resort. That much was clear and was certainly a fact. In addition, they sold it to Draco, and he gave it to her, which she already knew from the last note. Oh no, the last note! He apparently knew all along that she had already read it!

Why would he ask the Johnsons to lie to her about how they met? Was it to make it seem plausible that two people could meet and marry quickly? She was so deep in thought that she didn't notice when she ran right into someone. She looked up as the man put his arms on her shoulders.

"Miss Granger?" Adrian said. "Are you alright?"

To the surprise of them both, she threw her things on the floor of the wrap-around porch, and then flung her arms around his neck. Then, horror of horrors, she started to cry. "Oh, Adrian, I don't know what to do!"

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Draco's lied!" she cried.

"Yes, I know. I know all about it. I know about the lies he had the owners of the resort tell you, I know how he offered you the whole place, and I even know a few other facts. Come inside, we have to talk." He bent down to pick up her things, and then he ushered her into the resort.

* * *

_Second day of Work:_

"_Settling in, Granger?"_

_Hermione looked up from the papers on her desk, into the smiling face of Draco Malfoy. "Yes, thank you," she said back._

"_Have you met your staff?" He wandered into the office, and looked around._

"_Mostly," she answered pithily._

"_Good. Good." He walked over to her desk. He held up a picture she had just placed there moments before. It was one of her and Harry and Ron. He looked at it, grimaced a bit, (which made her smile) and then placed it back on the desk. He picked up a beautiful, glass paperweight and he tossed it up in the air._

_She gasped a bit, leaned back in her chair, and started to put her hand out for the paperweight, when he placed it back on the desk. He looked at her, curiously. He seemed to be stalling or perhaps he was trying to find the right words to say to her. _

_Finally, he picked the paperweight back up and threw it back in the air, high, and he caught it, quite precariously. She asked, "Draco, be careful with that, and was there something else you needed?"_

_His back was to her, as he continued to walk around her office, still tossing the paperweight in the air. He turned back toward her and said, "In the office you should probably call me Mr. Malfoy, you know." He was joking with her. He actually liked it that she had called him Draco. His name sounded nice coming from her mouth._

_She watched his expression closely, to ascertain if he was teasing. She decided he wasn't. She asked, "Fine, but if we're alone, like now, what shall I call you?" She wondered if she would call him Draco or Malfoy._

_He had a witty response, something close to crude, on the tip of his tongue, but instead he said, "I'm lying to you, you know. You're quite gullible aren't you? Although, I like how that sounds."_

"_What?" She didn't know what she had said that he liked. She knew that she didn't like that she believed his lie so easily, but that was her problem, not his._

_He walked closer to her desk, and she pushed her chair out slightly to look up at him. "I like how it sounds…us being alone," he said softly. Yes, she and he alone…on the beach, in a king size bed, or on the conference room table. He stopped his roving mind and said, "When, not if, but __**when**__ we're alone, you may call me lover and I'll call you precious love." He wiggled his eyebrows and with a smirk plastered on his face, he leaned against the wall. He kept the paperweight in one hand, and ran the other hand through his hair. All of those simple things combined were incredibly sexy, in her opinion. In fact, she was so taken aback, that she had nothing to say in response to his open flirting._

_Why was he flirting with her? He was her boss now. This was just her second day at work, and he was flirting with her!_

_The paperweight flew in the air again as he said, "I'm joking again, Granger, or shall I say," he threw the paperweight again, "Precious love?"  
_

_She held out her hand, for the paperweight and said, "And I'll call you lover but only in your dreams."_

"_Pinch me," he said. He walked over to her outstretched hand. "See if I'm dreaming now." _

_She wiggled her fingers. She wanted her paperweight back._

"_Do you want this?" he asked, innocuously enough. "Your employment contract states that I can play with anything that belongs to you. Won't that be a treat?"_

"_If I did sign a stupid employment contract," she started, "I'm sure it would say something about sexual harassment."_

"_Yes, it clearly states that you can sexually harass me all day and night." He wiggled his eyebrows again._

_"Do you have something in your eye?" she asked. She rolled her eyes and demanded, "The paperweight."_

"_Catch," he said, holding it up in the air._

_She cowered a bit in her chair and said, "Don't throw it!"_

"_Why? Won't you catch it?"_

_She shrieked as he pretended that he was going to throw it again. "I have terrible eye-hand coordination," she proclaimed._

"_Then I feel really bad for boyfriend, Precious love." _

"_Didn't we discuss in the lifts the other day that I didn't have a boyfriend?" she asked. She had been without a boyfriend for two years. It was something she hoped to change along with her job and clothing. She even had a blind date coming up soon. She stood from her chair and walked right up to him, so close that he could smell her perfume. So close he could reach out and touch her if he so desired, which he did. _

_She held out her hand again._

"_Meet me halfway," he said._

"_I'm in front of you. How closer do you want me?" she asked, innocently._

_That was a loaded question. He pushed away from the wall and stood upright, so that they were actually a smidge closer. Instead of dropping it in her hand, as she was suggesting, he placed it on her palm gently, placing his free hand under her hand, which now held the round sphere. He closed her fingers around the glass bulb with his other hand. His touch was warm and promising, and it made her heart flutter, her mouth dry, and her eyes blink._

_They merely stood there, her hand grasping the paperweight, and his hands grasping hers, and she didn't know how to proceed._

_He didn't know how to proceed, either, though he finally let her go, even if that was the last thing he wanted to do. Hermione started to put the paperweight back on the desk, when he sprang forward and snatched it from her again, quickly. She eyed him suspiciously, and then once more placed her open hand in front of his face._

_He started to drop it in her hand, but then he asked, "Did you read the fine print of the contract? It says that you have to say please and thank you to me." He leaned back against the wall again._

_She took one-step forward, to where he was still leaning against the wall. She held out her hand and said, "Thank you for giving me my paperweight back earlier, and will you please hand me the paperweight again. I'm sorry to act so protective of it, but my grandfather gave that to me, and he just died last week, so it's sentimental to me."_

"_Well, hell, Granger," he said, dropping it in her hand. "I apologize."  
_

_She cracked a smile and said, "I'm lying. It came with this office. See, you aren't the only one that can make a joke."_

_He gave her a small chuckle as she crossed back over to her desk, and after she placed the paperweight on top he said, "You're going to be a bright addition to our team, Granger." In his head he thought, 'and quite a challenge.'_

"_Get to work, you lazybones," he snickered as he left her office. "I'll see you later." He turned in her doorway and said, "Seriously, did you read the fine print of the contract?"_

"_Seriously, what contract?" she asked a bit perturbed._

_Wasn't that interesting? She must not have read the contract at all. "Never mind, precious love. Never mind. Don't think on it. Well, finish settling in and I'll see you tomorrow."_

_He started out of the office aware of a few interesting facts about one Hermione Granger. Fact 1, she was a pistol. That one he thought off the top of his head. Fact 2, she wasn't tied up with a husband or a boyfriend, which meant she was free game. Fact 3, she was interesting, charming, enlightening, and beautiful. Fact 4, she didn't used to be any of those things…except perhaps beautiful. Fact 5, she was a challenge, and he loved challenges. Fact 6, she lied to him, and though it was a little lie, about a stupid paperweight, he actually believed her, and anyone who could lie and have him believe it was worth the pursuit._

_And the final and most important fact was that she hadn't read the employment contract. She didn't know about the whole 'don't date the boss' thing that Adrian made all new hires sign. _

_He just thought of one more fact about Hermione J. Granger. He might just want to keep her, and if that were the case, he would have to do something about that contract, and fast._

_He walked toward Pucey's office. He walked right by Adrian's secretary, stormed into the man's office, and said, "Do you have a minute, Pucey?"_

"_Draco, can't you see that I'm in the middle of an interview?" Adrian asked. "I thought I told my secretary to call me whenever you approached."_

"_She wasn't out there," Draco lied. She was, but he flitted past her quickly. He looked at the man Adrian was interviewing and said, "What job are you interviewing for, chap?"_

"_Hmm," the man started, looking toward Adrian before he continued, "just an entry level position with your design team."_

"_Congratulations, you got the job," Draco said, "Now get the hell out of here, so I can speak with Pucey."_

_Adrian threw his quill on the desk, looked at the man and said, "Fine, start tomorrow. Meet me here at 8:00 in the morning." The young man left and Adrian stood up and said, "You have to stop hiring everyone like that! First Granger, now this kid, who by the way, isn't even that talented, and I wasn't going to hire!"_

"_Then fire him tomorrow," Draco said with a shrug, "and about Granger, did she sign all her papers yesterday?"_

_Adrian sat back down and said, "Of course."_

"_Even that nasty employment contract?" Draco asked._

"_Malfoy," Adrian warned. "Leave her alone, you hear? I might not have been thrilled that you hired her on impulse last Friday, but now that she's here, I think she'll work out great, so leave her alone."_

_Draco sighed and said, "Did she even sign the employment contract?"_

"_Especially the employment contract!" Adrian barked. "Although to be truthful, she went through all the paperwork so fast, probably because you suggested to her that she not read them, so she didn't read a single thing, which I thought was odd, but still, she signed it, and I'm glad she did, for protection."_

"_What?" Draco said with a snort as he sat down in front of Adrian's desk. "Do you think she'll be after me or something?"_

"_No," he answered. "It's to protect her from you, you git."_

"_But you said yourself that she didn't read it. I'm sure it wouldn't hold up in court. She didn't even know what she was signing," Draco reasoned._

"_Once more, leave her be, and may I remind you that ignorance of something isn't a defense. She had the opportunity to read it; we didn't coerce her, or trick her into signing it. She did it of her own freewill," Adrian pointed out._

"_Semantics," Draco reasoned. He stood up and said, "Listen, case in point, it's a fact that if she didn't read it, therefore, it can't be valid, so she's fair game."_

"_She's an employee!" Adrian huffed._

_Draco got a dreamy look about him and said, "No, she's a challenge, and I love challenges." He looked pleased, stood up and said, "Nice talking with you Pucey." He jaunted down the hall._

_Adrian said an expletive and shouted, "NO!" though Draco was long out of sight._


	32. Chapter 32 Outcome

**All characters belong to guess who: JKR!**

**Chapter 32: Outcome:**

Hermione was so deep in thought that she didn't notice when she ran right into someone. She looked up as the man put his arms on her shoulders.

"Miss Granger?" Adrian said. "Are you alright?"

To the surprise of them both, she threw her things on the floor of the wrap-around porch, and then flung her arms around his neck. Then, horror of horrors, she started to cry. "Oh, Adrian, I don't know what to do!"

No, Adrian Pucey _didn't_ know what to do. Hermione Granger was holding onto his neck for dear life, gentle sobs coming from her lips, and he was torn. Hermione Granger was undisputedly one of the strongest, most self-reliant, intelligent women he had ever met, yet here she was, crying on his shoulder. And he knew the reason she was crying was that someone lied to her. However, whoever that someone was, was still up for dispute.

And whether all of this was Draco's fault, Hermione's fault, or his own, he knew what the outcome had to be. It was time for the truth. Adrian had never considered himself anyone's social conscious, however for once he wanted to do the right thing.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Draco's lied!" she cried.

"Yes, I know. I know all about it. I know about the lies he had the owners of the resort tell you, I know how he offered you the whole place, and I even know a few other facts. Come inside, we have to talk." He bent down to pick up her things, and then he ushered her into the resort.

She took his hand and then they walked into the resort. They sat down in a corner of the large lobby, and Hermione told him everything. EVERYTHING. She told him about lying to Draco about coming here for a wedding. She told him about her blind date. She told him how Draco made the man leave, proceeded to pretend to be her date, then about the wonderful night they had. She told him how they flew on a broom, walked the boardwalk, and met the Johnsons. She told him about the next morning, and breakfast, and pretending to be married. She told him about the sandcastle, the spa, the stolen car, the notes, his marriage plans, and the cathedral.

She told him that she had possibly the best birthday of her life. Heaven help her, she even told the man how she and Malfoy made love. (Actually, she didn't tell him the mechanics, just the fact that they made love, not _how._)

When all was said and done, she even revealed how she had read the last note. She knew Draco had bought her the resort, though she didn't know how she could possibly really accept it, and oh yes, for some insane reason he had the Johnsons lie about how they met and married, information which Adrian already claimed to have known.

Leaving out nothing, she came to one conclusion: she should never have signed that employment contract without reading it. She concluded that every problem they had faced this weekend was because of that wretched contract, and the fact that she was too excited on her first day to read it.

Adrian looked almost in pain when she was done speaking. It wasn't because she had confided in him, although he wasn't used to such things, it was because he himself had a confession to make. "Hermione, please, don't beat yourself up about that contract."

"But if I had read it, I might not have even signed it and I might have encouraged Malfoy from the start, because I felt an instant attraction to him. On the other hand, if I had read it, I might have discouraged Malfoy from the start. Even after I found out about it, I ignored it. I lived in the moment for a change, not worrying about the outcome, and now that the moment has past, the outcome is horrible! I love him, Adrian. I do. And I'm lost at what to do. I don't even care that much that he had the Johnsons lie to me. It's sort of sweet in a sick, sycophant, perverted, Malfoy-sort of way."

"The thing that I'm most upset about is that I let it all occur, when I knew better. I'm upset that I lied to him about that last note, and he knows it, and apparently he doesn't even care! He still wants to marry me! He bought me a resort! A RESORT! Who buys someone a resort?"

"Malfoy," he answered. Adrian didn't mean to say it aloud, but he did. Malfoy was the type to buy someone a resort. Adrian said, "Hermione, again, I have to ask you not to worry about this. I came here because Malfoy admitted to me that there was one outstanding little lie that might affect your relationship with him, and I thought the lie had something to do with me and the contract, but now I don't think he even knows about my lie. I guess the lie he was referring to was the thing about the Johnsons."

Hermione looked confused and said, "What was your lie?"

"It doesn't matter. Malfoy must not know about it, and I don't know why I was worried that he did. There was no way for him to know about it, but I thought that was his lie, and I'm sorry."

"What are you trying to say?" she asked.

"Hermione, I have a confession about the employment contract," Adrian said.

* * *

_**The day Malfoy hired Hermione, after they left the lifts:**_

_Adrian and Draco walked off the lifts and headed toward the conference room. Draco glanced behind his shoulder once, then twice._

_Adrian gave him a funny look and then asked, "What are you doing?"_

"_Hermione Granger looked good, didn't she?"_

"_Yes, I suppose so," Adrian answered back, almost with a sigh. He didn't like the way Malfoy said that statement._

"_She's prettier than I remember. She's grown into a beautiful woman," Draco said, almost to himself._

_Adrian looked to the side and watched Malfoy's face. He seemed introspective and in deep thought. The look on his face wasn't the usual look he had when he talked about women, and Adrian wondered why._

"_Did you see how nice she looked?" Draco asked when they walked into the conference room to wait for the staff meeting._

"_Yes, Malfoy, I have eyes. She's a beautiful woman, she looked nice, she's grown into her looks, and her legs were really nice, and her red shoes were sexy." Adrian sat at the opposite end of the long table._

"_What are you doing looking at her legs?" Draco asked with one eyebrow in the air. "You're engaged."_

"_I still have eyes," he said, although he didn't know what else to say, but if he didn't know Malfoy any better, he would say that he was smitten with Hermione Granger, of all people. Adrian was tired of Malfoy and his woman problems. He was constantly breaking hearts, making empty promises, having meaningless flings. He said, "You just hired the woman, you know. You shouldn't be thinking about her the way you are."_

_Draco leered back at him and asked, "And how is that?"_

_Adrian almost answered, but the conference door opened and more people started inside, so he never got the opportunity to respond. _

_That evening, as Adrian was leaving work, he walked into Draco's office to place some papers that needed signed on his desk. He started to walk in unnoticed, as Malfoy was looking at an old, yellowed news clipping. Adrian knocked on the doorframe and said, "Malfoy, here are the papers you need to sign before tomorrow."_

"_Oh, yes, bring them in," Draco said, sounding distracted. "Are you heading home?"_

"_Yes, Penelope is cooking tonight, heaven help us," Adrian said with a laugh._

"_That's nice," Draco remarked, putting the news clipping in his top desk drawer. _

"_You wouldn't say that if you'd tasted her cooking before," Adrian retorted._

"_I have, and you're right," Draco said with a smile. "I meant that it's nice to have someone to go home to, huh?"_

"_Sure," Adrian said simply. _

_Draco stood up and said, "I'll be right back. I have to see if my assistant left yet. I need her Floo Serpent's Cove to make sure my penthouse suite is booked for this weekend. I'm going there to check on making it a possible investment. I'll be right back."_

_Adrian merely nodded. Once Draco was out of the office, Adrian rushed to Draco's desk and pulled open the top drawer. Inside the drawer was a faded, old, news article, ripped out of an old copy of the Prophet, and above the article was a picture of Hermione Granger._

_Adrian picked it up, scanned the article, and then placed it back in the drawer. He hardly knew what to think. Did Malfoy have previous feelings for Granger? God help them all._

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

_**Hermione's third day of work, before the staff meeting:**_

_Adrian took his usual place at one end of the large conference room just as Draco was sitting down at the other end. Draco said, "We have nothing but morons working for us, present company included."_

"_The phrase is 'present company excluded,' Malfoy," Adrian said with a laugh._

"_I know what I said," Draco said lightly with a smile._

"_Does that include Granger?" Adrian asked. "She's never been described as a moron before, I'm sure."_

"_She's not present, but time will tell," Draco replied. "Actually, she's, oh never mind."  
_

"_What?" Adrian asked._

_Draco looked at the door, which was closed. Adrian and he always arrived before the rest of the department heads. He said, "She's different, isn't she?"_

"_Didn't we already have this conversation the other day? Yes she's changed, yes she's beautiful, yes she has nice legs," Adrian conversed._

"_Stop talking about her legs," Draco said, actually fuming. "No, what I was going to say was that she's a challenge. A challenge I would like to, well, you know."_

"_Sleep with her?" Adrian said dryly._

"_NO!" Draco retorted, and then softer, with a bit of a smile he said, "Well, yes, but what I meant was, she's someone I could," and then he stopped. "Never mind. You'll make me angry in a minute if I continue."_

"_I'll make you angry?" Adrian came back. "Do you have a thing for her?"_

_Draco glared at his friend and then with all the intellect and articulation he could muster said, "Shut up."_

_Adrian laughed. Draco must have a thing for her, and if his feelings were genuine, and unique, and he wanted to pursue her as more than a sleep partner, Adrian would be pleased. He thought if Draco could settle down, he would be more inclined to do well in business. However, he wasn't sure of Draco's feelings, not really, and he didn't want to lose a good employee if Draco just wanted a good shag._

"_Draco, I won't let what you say go beyond this room, but do you like her?"_

_Draco was quiet for a long time before he said, "What the hell difference does it make. You ruined everything anyway. You and that stupid employment contract." _

"_Yes," Adrian said softly, "the contract."_

"_Of course, there's ways around everything," Draco said with a stupid smirk plastered on his face. "It might be fun to find a loop-hole in your ever-loving contract, Pucey." Draco opened a folder and began to read as other members of their team began to walk in the room._

_Two different people pulled out the chair next to Malfoy, and twice he begged them off; once by saying directly to the man, "Sit somewhere else," and once by actually growling. Adrian knew that Draco was saving that seat for Hermione. His suspicions were confirmed when Granger arrived late to the conference room with her assistant department head, and her administrative assistant. Hermione went directly to the empty seat by Adrian, and sat down._

_Draco popped his head up and snapped at her to sit next to him. She looked shocked at first, and Adrian was certain that she wasn't going to get up and change seats, but at the last moment, Malfoy told her to sit next to him, and she did._

_Then Adrian knew. Granger reciprocated whatever Draco felt. He took a deep breath, looked down at the table, already dreading the outcome of both of their actions. _

_During the meeting, Hermione kept her nose to her notes. She barely looked up, but the two or three times that she did glance up, she didn't look toward whoever was speaking. She looked at Malfoy. Likewise, Draco would bark something at someone, either to call them names, or make fun of their ideas, but almost every time he made a comment, he would look over at Granger to gauge her reaction._

_Adrian knew these two fools were meant for each other. At the end of the meeting, Draco demanded that she stay. Adrian almost stayed as well, but he knew he wouldn't be welcomed, so he left the conference room. About ten minutes after everyone left, Adrian poked his head back in the door, and there they sat, side by side, Malfoy reading her notes, and clutching her hand, and a blush on Granger's cheeks._

_Later, Adrian went to find Hermione. He needed to talk to her, to find out if she had feelings for Draco. He just had to, because if she didn't, he wanted to get her to sign the employment contract, because even though he had told Malfoy that he had already had her sign it, he hadn't. He wasn't sure why, but something in his gut told him to hold off having her sign it. Now he was glad that he had._

_He was almost to her office when he saw Malfoy closing and locking his office door. "Looking for Granger?" Malfoy asked._

"_Yes," Adrian replied. "Do you know if she's left?"_

"_Yes she did. Get this, Adrian. She's going to a wedding this weekend," Draco said smiling._

_Adrian didn't seem to think that was very interesting news, and Draco was about to reveal WHERE she was going, (because it was the same place that Draco was going) when Draco stopped. He couldn't tell Adrian that he was going to the same resort as Hermione, because he knew that Adrian would never approve. He would remind Draco of that effing contract, and tell him to stave off Granger. Finally, Draco said, "Isn't that nice. A wedding."_

"_Sure," Adrian said, sounding bored. "Well, I need to get home," he added. _

_Draco and Adrian both walked toward the lifts, when Draco turned to him and said, "One last time, you did have her sign the employment contract, which states we can't date, right?"_

_Adrian put the contract behind his back and said, "I told you I did, but please, just answer my question, which I will ask one last time. Do you like her? Are you interested in her as something more than a quick shag, or a challenge, or a game? I mean, this isn't just to prove that you can supersede the contract, right? Please, it's important that you tell me the truth for once, Malfoy."_

"_Hmmm," Draco hummed. "Don't worry about it. I have no feelings at all for the woman, and no intention of acting on any impulses, so don't fret your ugly, little head about it." He leaned against the wall of the lifts. Adrian could tell that he was contemplating something, and knowing Draco, it was something to do with the contract. He also knew Draco Malfoy was lying. He knew one more thing. If lying was more important than the truth to Malfoy, then he didn't need someone like Hermione Granger._

_Because of that last thought, Adrian, who almost blurted out that he hadn't had her sign it, changed his mind at the last moment. He would wait. When Granger came back from her weekend wedding, he would find out if she was as interested in Draco as Draco was in her, and if he was convinced that this was something more than the norm for Malfoy, he would tear up this contract and never have her sign it._

_Nevertheless, he had to be sure. He had worked too hard to make this company a success to let Draco ruin it. Also, if Malfoy was too much of an arse to admit his feelings, and he would rather lie to Adrian than tell the truth for once, Adrian felt he deserved everything BUT Hermione Granger. For that reason, he kept the fact that she hadn't yet signed it a secret._

**The Present:**

He kept the fact that Hermione hadn't even signed the employment contract a secret until that moment, sitting in the lobby of Serpent's Cove. He told her everything Draco had said that first day when he hired her, and that day before the staff meeting, and the night out in the hallway.

"You see, Hermione, at that point, I knew he was interested in you, but to what degree, I didn't yet know, and I had no clue what you felt for him in return. He said you were a challenge, don't you see? I thought that was all there was to it. I thought he viewed it as a game." Adrian suddenly stood and started to pace. "I've heard him say the same thing about other women a _hundred_ times. He said he wasn't interested in you. I asked him directly if he liked you, and he said he didn't. Even though I recognized it as a lie at the time, he lies so often, and so well, that I didn't want to risk it!"

Hermione almost interjected with a question, but Adrian continued, "So I thought it was just a game to him. I thought he wanted to try to get you, only because you DID sign the contract, and because he wanted to best me in a way. I thought he wanted to prove that he was smarter than any stupid contract."

"If he had just been honest with me, and told me that he liked you, then things might have been different, but he lied. I say, it came as a surprise to me when I arrived with my fiancée to his yacht on Saturday, and found you there with him. So yes, after you left the yacht, I suggested to him that if he wanted to get around the contract, he should marry you or something, but I never thought in a _million_ years that he would actually plan to do just that! I never imagined in a _billion_ years that he would buy you this resort, just so he could date you! I never thought in a _trillion_ years that his feelings were true."

"Stop with all the hyperbole and just tell me what you're trying to say!" Hermione said to his ramblings and exaggerations.

"I didn't have you sign the contract. That's why you don't remember signing it. I lied. There, I said it. I'm a deft liar, just like you and Malfoy!" he confessed.

"Why did you lead him on to believe that I did? Why didn't you tell us? I've been in such anguish and agony. I thought I had to pick one over the other, him or my job, because frankly, I never would have married him that quickly, I really cannot accept the resort, and all along, I wouldn't have had to do either. I could have dated him and kept my job!" she said, upset. She stood as well.

He said, "If you _had _signed it, and he hadn't planned a marriage, or did something outrageous like buy you a whole resort, what would you have picked, if it came down to the wire. If it was between your new job, and a man you apparently have fallen in love with over the course of a weekend, which would you have chosen. I really want to know. No, I need to know."

She didn't want to answer rashly, so she sat back down, placed her hands in her lap and thought for a moment. "My life was so empty for so long. I'm tired of being alone and lonely. I'm tired of searching for things that will make me happy, instead of them finding me. I'm tired of trying to create my own happiness, and failing miserably. Oh, Adrian, you really should have told him, but I am sincere when I say that I would have chosen him."

Adrian almost looked in pain. He sat beside her and said, "Heaven help me, but Malfoy will never forgive me, you know. I caused him extra anguish and pain, and while I usually enjoy causing him discomfort, this time it was at your expense, so I feel a tad bit bad about it."

Hermione almost wanted to laugh.

"You know," she finally said. "None of this would have happened if you both hadn't lied. Why do you former Slytherins lie so often, and well?"

"I don't know, it's a mental handicap," he said, only partially joking. "But, Malfoy's lies supplant mine, don't you think? And maybe he needed my lie, to see what his true feelings were for you. Sometimes people need a lie, to know what's true."

"Oh, do try to stop sounding so noble. You lied, Adrian, plain and simple, and you're not getting off that easily, buddy," Hermione said. "I think you've learned your lesson the hard way, although, he should be taught a lesson, too. If he had told you his feelings for me, you would have told him that I hadn't signed the contract, and perhaps then he wouldn't have told so many lies to me this weekend."

"See, you agree, its Malfoy's fault," Adrian said with a nod.

"You're right, one less lie on Malfoy's part, and you would have undoubtedly told him that I never signed that contract before he left for the resort, and things would have played out much different, with a lot less drama and grief. Yes, I think a dose of his own medicine is in order."

"What do you have in mind?" Adrian asked, with a smile. He knew he had a few good suggestions up his sleeve.

Hermione had something good in mind, as well. Something that would teach Draco Malfoy a lesson in which he would never forget. She would cure him of his lying, for the last time.

* * *

_A/N: The next chapter is done! After it there's only three more chapters and then it's bye, bye, Proxy! _

_I have a poll on my author's page to help me decide whether my next story will be a regency period piece, like my story "Arrogance and Ignorance" or the third "An Unlikely Pair" story, but so far, the voting is almost neck and neck. Each time I look at it, it one way or the other, separated only by a point or two. So, I was going to let the one-thousandth reviewer of this story decide for me, but that was an anonymous reviewer (I just opened my stories back up to anonymous reviews, but I swear by all that's holy if I get slammed with hateful things again, I'll stop writing on here altogether, seriously.) but the point is, I can't PM an anonymous person to ask them to pick._

_Therefore, I've come up with another number. I totally random number and the person who leaves this review will get to pick, because if I had a preference, it would be the regency era story, which I have two chapters already written, but the third Unlikely Pair will be easier to write. Who knows, I might start one, and then start the other. I've been known to have two or three stories going at once, but still, one has to be first. So, good luck out there to all of you, and I hope you pick wisely, and don't let my drithers influence you. Thanks!_


	33. Chapter 33 Remorse

**All characters belong to JKR**

_(A/N: My beta renamed this chapter, "The sh*t hits the fan.")_

* * *

**Chapter 33: Remorse:**

With a heavy heart, Adrian walked toward his office after his talk with Hermione. They had come up with a plan to 'teach' Draco the evilness of lying, and while most of the plan was Adrian's idea, Hermione agreed to it, but it still had him worried. Draco might react badly when he finds out they lied, but if it made him even a little bit repentant, it would be worth it. If Draco had even one iota of integrity, he would feel at least some remorse. Once he reached his office, he was surprised to find Draco sitting at his desk.

"Where have you been?" Draco asked.

"Lunch," Adrian answered cryptically.

"You left at noon and now it's after four," Draco said. "Careful, someone might think I've been a bad influence on you." He smiled and stood from Adrian's desk. He thought his friend looked weary. "Seriously, though, where have been?"

"Seriously," Adrian answered, "don't worry about it." He sat down in the chair Draco had just left and said, "I need to know something, Malfoy."

"What, old chap?" Draco asked happily.

Adrian was going to give Draco one last chance to tell the truth, and if he did, Adrian would be truthful about the contract, about his conversation with Granger, and about the plan that they had come up with to teach him a lesson about lying. If Draco lied, then Adrian would let his lack of repentance, and the punishment that ensued, be his comeuppance.

"Malfoy, what happened with you and Granger this weekend? What really happened? Are you in love with her?"

Draco thought Adrian's question might be a trap of some sort. If he admitted his true feelings, then Adrian might bring up the contract. Draco said, "Listen, I bought her a resort. What do you think?"

"I think that doesn't answer my question," Adrian answered back. "Please, for the last time, do you love her? Do you see a future with her? A real future? A sincere future? Are you ready to give up all others, and give up lying, cheating, to be with her? Do you love her enough to tell me the truth?"

Draco smiled and said, "The truth hardly matters at the end of the day. All that matters is that she accepts the contents on that last note. Then we'll see what happens from there."

That wasn't what Adrian wanted to hear. Either Draco was in denial, or he was still lying, but either way, Adrian now felt no remorse about setting his and Hermione's plan into action. Adrian said, "By the way, Granger's back early. I just saw her entering her office."

"She wasn't set to come back to work until tomorrow," Draco said. "No bother, I'll see you later." He practically bounded to her office. He threw open the door and started to her, but she was sitting at her desk, with her head in her hands. She looked as weary and forlorn as Pucey did, and he wanted to know why.

He put a smile on his face and opened his arms wide, as if he was a conquering hero returning from war, and he expected her to run into his arms at any moment. She barely looked up, though. She said, "Hi, Draco." He slowly brought his arms down, considered her demeanor for a moment, and then asked the question that begged to be asked.

"What's wrong? Did someone die?" He really thought that might be a possibility.

"Nothing's wrong," she answered.

"Why have you returned early? I thought you weren't coming back to the office until tomorrow morning." Draco sat on her desk, by her arm. She didn't look up at him. She continued to write something on a piece of parchment. When she didn't answer he grabbed her Muggle pen, threw it over his shoulder and said, "Spill it, my Granger. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I'm making a list." She held up a piece of paper.

"What type of list?" he asked lightly. He tried to take the piece of paper from her hand, but she pulled it toward her.

"A list of things that will change in my life if I decide to quit, so I can continue to see you," she answered sadly.

He frowned. "Why would you make such a stupid list?"

"It's not stupid. It's something I really have to consider…weigh all my options and such. For instance, number one is important." Hermione handed the paper back to him. Number one read: "_I might starve because I will have no money for food."_

Draco chuckled and said, "I wouldn't let you starve. I'd give you money for food."

"Read number four," she said.

He read number four and it read: _"I would lose my self-respect if I accept a handout from Malfoy." _Draco said, "Well, that's silly. Self-respect be damned, a woman's got to eat." He handed the piece of paper back to her and said, "Besides, maybe instead of giving you money for food I would just give you food. If you're especially nice to me, I might buy you a business or something, and you could earn your own money, ergo, you'd be able to eat."

"Read number seven." She passed the note back to him. He signed as he read number seven. _"I will be viewed as a kept woman if I accept a business from Draco based on our relationship, and not on merit or worth, hence: No self-respect, again."_

"Gee," Draco drawled, "self-respect must be pretty important to you, huh?" He almost threw her list back at her.

"Along with truthfulness, read nine." Hermione handed it back and he almost pushed the piece of paper away, but he took it again and read number nine.

"Number nine," he read aloud, "I would be a liar if I tell everyone that nothing happened this weekend, when it did, and if I accept any money or property from Draco, just because I was stupid enough to sign a contract without reading it." Draco read it once more, silently. Then he decided to read the whole list, and it made him incredibly sad, and remorseful. Damn.

"So basically," he started, "What I get from your little list, is that to continue to date me, you would feel like a piece of shite, because it would mean you would be a liar, with no self-respect, right?"

She nodded.

He sighed deeply. He was afraid to ask this of her again, but he had to, because now he really, really hoped she hadn't read the last note. "Did you read the last note?" He had assumed that she had, but he wanted to see what she would say. He was slightly confused by the way she was acting, and he was beginning to wonder if she had been truthful when she told him that she hadn't already read it. If she had, she wouldn't be this sad, would she? Or perhaps, if her little list was accurate, the note might make her even sadder still.

"No," she said. "I told you we would read it together on Tuesday morning, but seriously, I don't know if it will matter. I can't imagine it will solve our problems."

"Of course it will matter," he said, trying to smile. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. He didn't like that. He liked to hold her hand. It had become one of his favourite things to do.

"Granger, just tell me what's going on here."

Instead of saying anything, she pulled the last note out of her pocket. She placed it on the desk, and pushed it toward him. He picked it up and tried to hand it back to her. She held her hands up, as if it was on fire or something. "Read it," he commanded. He wanted her to read it, so he could gauge her reaction. If she reacted badly, as he suspect now that she might, he would quickly ask her to marry him. He would say that it was an early wedding present.

"No, I already told you, it doesn't matter what it says," she answered.

"I told you it does matter," he said with anger. "The answer to our relationship problem is on that bloody note, and if you don't agree, then I have another solution at hand!"

She stood up and pushed her chair slightly away from the desk. She was out of his reach when she said softly, "We don't have a relationship problem, because we don't have a relationship."

He hopped off the desk and asked tenderly, "What happened between this morning and now?"

He was being so sweet, and he looked so sad and confused, that she almost didn't want to go through with the plan that she and Adrian had concocted, but yet, Draco needed a good dose of his own medicine. She had to cure him of his lying ways once and for all, or they really didn't have a chance at a relationship. She was also still slightly afraid that he was truthful when he had told Adrian that he viewed her as a challenge, and that he really didn't have feelings for her. If she could lie one last time, to find out the truth, she would do it.

"Nothing happened, Draco," she began, "Except for the fact that Adrian came to see me at the resort today."

He stepped closer to her, and backed her into the wall. "What did that wanker want?" He placed one hand on one side of her head, and the other hand on the other side, esssentially trapping her between them.

"He wanted two things, really," she answered. "One, he wanted to remind me about our employment contract. Second, he told me that when he asked you directly if you liked me, or had feelings for me, you said that you didn't. You said I was merely a challenge, and that was the only reason you pursued me." That last one was the truth, for Adrian really had told her that.

She waited anxiously to see what he would say to that.

"NO!" he shouted loudly. He pushed away from the wall. "That stupid, fucking wanker!" He started to roam around the room, his hands in fists at his sides. "That stupid contract will be the death of me! It's crap, Granger! Just read the note! It doesn't matter about that damn contract. The note will solve everything!" He implored her to read it by picking it back up from the desk and holding it out in front of her face.

He was really beginning to believe that she hadn't read it after all, and he no longer cared if he changed it to a marriage proposal. He just wanted her to read it as it was. She was sad, and her sadness convinced him that she hadn't read it, because she was not that good of a liar, or that good of an actress.

"Draco," she began, leaning against her desk, "it no longer matters. I told you that. Even if that note was a marriage proposal, I couldn't accept. Adrian pointed out that if we married, it could be easily proven that we dated this weekend. We weren't exactly judicious. We flaunted our relationship, when we should have been prudent."

"SO?" he barked.

"So, that would make me in breach of contract! Your company could sue me, and still fire me, too. I would be liable! Those are number four and five on my list."

He let out a breath, rushed to her, and put his hand on her neck. He said, "But I wouldn't do that, sweetheart. I would never sue you!" He tried to reach for her hand with his free hand, but she moved away from him quickly.

"Maybe you wouldn't do it, but Adrian made it clear that he would pursue it. He said he would make an example out of me, to teach everyone else a lesson. He told me that he would conveniently forget all about our weekend together, if we conveniently forgot about it, or else he'll fire me and take me to court, and he said there's nothing you can do about it, because the contract clearly states that all decisions regarding hiring and firing are eventually his."

She sat down in her chair and said, "I would lose you and my job."

"You could never lose me," he promised. He looked so anguished, and she almost felt remorse with her ruse, and she decided that she felt just as anguished as he felt. He knelt beside her, grabbed her hand quickly this time, (he wasn't about to let go), and he said, "Adrian won't do anything. I promise. In the long run, this job won't matter, anyway, once you read the note, and I ask you a question I've been waiting to ask you."

"No, Draco, don't you see," she hesitated, and then continued, "It's hard enough knowing that you…oh, forget it."

He stood up impatiently, let go of her hand and demanded, "Continue. It's hard enough knowing what?"

"Did you tell Adrian that it was your goal this weekend to make me fall for you?" she asked. "Was this just a game? Was I just a challenge that you wanted to conquer?"

He was taken aback. He had never told Adrian any such thing, at least not in so many words. He said she was a challenge, but that was all that he said. He didn't mean it in a derogatory way, and Adrian didn't even know that Draco had plans to pursue her this weekend, until he arrived with Penelope at the yacht. Why would Adrian lie like that? Draco felt as if the room was spinning. He had so much he wanted to say, but the only thing that came out was one strangled sentence: "Adrian Pucey is a dead man."

"So it's true?" she asked, a bit afraid now that it might be, since he didn't deny it. This part of their ploy was Adrian's idea, and Hermione wondered if this supposed lie was based in truth.

"It's not true," he said solemnly. "Now, I admit, it might have started with me wanting to chase after you, the challenge of the pursuit, and maybe it did start just because of the contract, not in spite of it. You know, to get the better of Pucey, because he's so self-righteous, and sure, at the beginning, I thought we might just sleep together or something, but all of that changed."

That admission shocked her. "It's true?"

"It might have been slightly true in the beginning, but I never told Adrian any of that. I don't know how he found out that was my intention at first, but I even admitted as much to you right after our blind date! I told you that I thought we might have a bit of fun and we would have good chemistry in bed, but it changed. It changed almost as soon as I admitted it to you on Friday night, Granger. I swear."

Hermione felt a bit numb. She stood up and put her hand on his chest. She wanted to feel his heartbeat. It was beating rapidly. She wasn't sure what that meant. He placed his hand over hers. She asked, "Why did you have the Johnsons lie about how they met. Was it to manipulate me into marriage? What would you have done if I had accepted your proposal? What if I had wanted to get married at the Cathedral?"

She asked too many questions, but he put all of that aside to ask her one. "How did you know about the Johnsons?"

"I overheard them talking this morning." She picked up the last triangle and placed it in his hand. "What else did you lie about this weekend?"

He held the note in his hand, pleaded, "Granger," and then stopped. He didn't know what he was going to say, because he had lied about so many things this weekend, so he could see where she would have trouble deciphering fact from fiction. In his mind, one truth was evident: he loved her, so he told her so. "I fell in love with you this weekend, Granger."

She was done playing games and so was he. How could he convince her that he was being truthful now, when he boasted all weekend about how good he was at lying? She decided to be truthful, too, so she said, "I don't know whether or not I really believe you anymore."

She sat down, leaned forward in her chair, and placed her arms on her desk and her head on her arms. He stood in front of her for several long, awkward moments and promised, "I will never lie to you again." He placed the note on the desk in front of her.

"And I don't even believe that," she confessed truthfully.

He turned to leave, and she said, "Aren't you forgetting something?" She held up the last note.

He replied, "Keep it. When you finally decided that I'm telling the truth, read it. I'll prove to you I'm no longer lying. I'll never lie to you again, but first, I have to kill someone, and I'm truthful when I say that Adrian Pucey is about to die." He stormed out of his office, prepared to kill his oldest friend, and he didn't feel even a smidgen of remorse about it. She popped up out her chair, and ran after him.


	34. Chapter 34 Hypocritical

**All characters belong to JKR and I make no money from using them in this story**

**Chapter 34: Hypocritical:**

Hermione didn't know she could move so fast. Draco was halfway down the hall before she caught up with him. When she finally caught him, she grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her.

"WAIT!" she yelled.

"For what?" he screamed back.

"Violence doesn't solve anything!" she scolded.

"Who said anything about violence?" he yelled. "I assure you, I'm going to kill him in the least violent, most humane way possible. I'm told the Avada doesn't hurt very much at all. It's quite civilized, but highly necessary." He shrugged off her hand and started to stomp back down the hallway. She grabbed his arm again, and instead of stopping him this time, it merely slowed him down, as he was now pulling her down the hall in his wake.

She fell down, and he looked back. He turned quickly, about to leave her on the floor, when she grabbed his leg. He found it difficult to run towing a clinging Hermione Granger behind him. He looked down at her and said, "Is there something mentally wrong with you? Get off the floor!"

She was breathing hard. She held on tightly to the hem of his pants and said, "If I stand up, will you promise not to run away. Please."

"I'll give you five seconds to stand." He started counting, "One", she let go of his pants, "Two" she scrambled to her knees, "Three," she got up slightly, "Four, Five!" He started running back down the hall.

She was bent at the waist, hand on her side, and she yelled, "That's not fair!"

He stopped and said, "Fine, catch back up with me." She almost wanted to laugh. He waited for her to catch up and then said, "May I start running again?"

She stood in front of him and said, "You don't really want to kill him, Draco."

His face was red, his hands clenched, his jaw set, and he exhaled deeply and said, "I assure you, Granger, I have never proclaimed a more truthful statement than when I said I wanted to kill him!" He pushed her aside and walked briskly away from her.

She wished she hadn't left her wand in her office. She ran after him again and jumped on his back. This shocked him so badly that he stumbled and fell to his knees, cursing all the way. A few employees who were working late looked out of their office doors, but then decided not to intervene. A couple of them wouldn't have minded tackling Draco occasionally.

He turned to his back, and she straddled him. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he laughed and said, "I'm much stronger than you, you know. I could get up easily."

"Okay, but please, let me catch my breath." She took a few, quick breaths, in succession, and then she sighed.

"You're out of shape, old girl. Being thirty doesn't agree with you." He reached up and stroked her cheek.

"Oh, Draco," she said, "Please, don't be angry with Adrian. Don't hurt him."

"I won't, not really," he said soothingly. She smiled. He said, "I'm rich. I'll hire someone to kill him. Why should I soil my hands?"

She looked in pain. He said, "Who is he to toil with our lives?"

"Draco…"

"I mean, he's playing God, that's what he's doing!"

"Draco, wait…"

"He lied about me saying that I only wanted you for the challenge."

"Draco, please, listen to me," she begged.

He looked up at her and said, "May I get up first?"

"If I let you up do you promise not to run to Adrian's office?" she asked.

He thought for a moment and said, "Now that I'm being truthful, I can't lie. The moment you get up, I'm out of here."

She giggled. Then she said, "It's nice that you want to be so truthful to me, but that just means you'll have to stay on your back and listen to me."

"I like it when you're rough, Granger," he said with a sly smile. He stroked her face again and said, "Kiss me."

"Wait," she grabbed both his hands in hers.

He actually crossed his legs at the ankle, as if he had all the time in the world to laze about on the floor of the hallway at his office. He said, "What?"

"I have confession to make," she finally said.

In a move that surprised her, he wrenched his hands from hers, and swiftly changed places with her. He was now straddling her, her hands in his.

"Hey," she said, indignantly.

"Confess, Granger," he urged.

"Well now, I don't know if I can. You have the upper hand, and I feel slightly vulnerable." He moved off her and sat up against the wall. She moved to her hands and knees, and crawled over to where he sat. A few people walked past them, and she waited until they were alone in the hallway and she said, "Everything is my fault."

He took her hand, and this time, she let him. He said, "None of this is your fault. You've done nothing wrong. This is his fault for not disclosing that contract to you, it's his fault for threatening to fire you, and sue you. I can't believe he would hold that contract against you. I could fire him for that. In fact, I think I will."

She shook her head and turned to face him slightly. "No, Draco, your anger is justified, but it's pointed toward the wrong person. Please, listen to me, because as I said, I have a confession to make."

"So do I," he said.

"Me first," she insisted.

"No, I simply must go first," he interjected.

"Please, let me go first," she begged.

"No allow me, because I'm afraid that Adrian's anger is really at me, and he's taking it out on you," Draco said.

She was slightly interested in his confession, but she still had to go first. She wanted to tell him that they had lied to him. She couldn't stand being a hypocrite for one second longer. She placed her hand over his mouth and said, "Shut up and let me talk."

He bit her finger and she screamed. "That hurt!"

"Fine, go first. Age before beauty," he insisted.

"Thank you," she said. Then she realized the implication of his statement and said, "Hey."

He laughed and said, "What can I say. You're old and I'm beautiful." He leaned over and kissed her lightly. She felt so guilty.

"Draco," she started, only to falter again. She didn't know how to proceed. After a few seconds, Draco said, "If you're going to take this long to make your confession, might I go ahead and make mine. I know exactly what I want to say. I would have been done by now."

She threw her hands up in the air in defeat. She glared at him and said, "Confess away."

"Okay, that contract," he started, "that stupid, bloody contract, may have been justified. I've had quite a few flings with underlings, which have hurt our business in the past. I've been sued for sexual harassment twice, totally unjustified, but it probably happened because I broke things off badly. One woman I jilted went so far as to quit and then sell some of our business secrets to my father's company."

"Four months ago, after the last dalliance ended badly, with the witch quitting and selling our story to the gossip rags, Adrian came up with this employment contract and at first I was really, really angry about it."

He took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. He stood up suddenly, and helped her to stand. Without further ado, he ushered her into the conference room. He sat on the top of the table, and placed her slightly between his legs. He held both of her hands.

"When Pucey first implemented the contract, the first one to sign it was a pretty, little witch, named Jody. I did actively chase her, on the side, to see how far I could get without Pucey knowing. I didn't get very far. He fired her. From that point on, I was determined to best him. I wanted to prove to him that no bloody contract could dictate my personal life."

"It's my company, it bears my name, and I'm 29 years old, dammit! While he owns a third of the company, I'm still the major stockholder."

Hermione closed her eyes and she felt herself shaking. He placed a hand on her face and said, "Look at me, my Granger." She opened her eyes.

"As I said, I thought, what right does he have to dictate my personal life? Therefore, I went after another pretty, little witch in accounting. She was his second victim. He fired her and she was left without a job, with a large severance package, and no hope for future employment."

"Draco, that's awful," Hermione said. "Did you even care for her at all?"

"No," he answered, as a matter of fact.

"How does this relate to us," she asked, though she was afraid to do so.

He didn't want to continue. He couldn't. She looked so sad and upset. After he confessed, she would leave him. He knew it. He said, "You know what, I think I'll tell you the rest later. I've decided to go back to trying to kill Adrian, unless you can give me a good reason why I shouldn't." He smiled to alleviate the mood in the room.

Hermione felt so guilty. She blamed Adrian for allowing both her and Draco to believe that there was a contract, but she finally saw the reason for it. Draco had abused it in the past, as he had abused his position in the company before Adrian came up with the contract. After hearing Draco's confession, or part of it, she wasn't sure his anger at the man was justified, even if Adrian and she had lied about its existence, she still wasn't certain Draco should be angry. She was also slightly aware that perhaps she should be angry with Draco. He apparently went after her, thinking that there was a contract in place, and not caring in the beginning if Adrian fired her or not. That part unsettled her greatly.

"Have you thought of a reason yet? A reason why I shouldn't kill Adrian?" Draco challenged, as she had been quiet since he first posed that statement to her.

"You'll go to prison, and you're too beautiful for jail, aren't you?" she asked.

"I think its justifiable homicide, sweetheart," he taunted.

"You could just fire him," she suggested, trying to let on that she was joking.

"That is a better solution." Draco pushed away from the table and said, "Now I see what all the hype over your being so smart is about, because that's brilliant. I should fire him and then kill him! If I kill him while he's still an employee, I would have to pay out his life insurance premium to his survivors. Thanks, Granger."

He opened the conference room door. He was no longer running. They walked side by side, still toward Adrian's office. Hermione said, "You might muss your clothing if you kill him."

He laughed and said, "Dear, sweet, naïve, Granger. Someone as practiced at the Dark Arts as I am would never soil himself. I know ten ways to kill a man that wouldn't even dirty my nails."

"How will you dispose of his body?" she asked.

He stopped and seemed really to consider this question. "I could chuck it in the rubbish bin, and let the cleaning crew dispose of it."

"Would he fit?" she asked.

"He would if we chopped him into bits. There's only one way to find out," he said with a gleam to his eye.

They had just reached the door to Adrian's outer office, when he opened it and said, "If you are both done plotting my demise and dismemberment, might I interject?"

"If you must," Draco said, his anger abated.

"I lied. There. Makes me a bit of a hypocrite, aye?" Adrian said. Draco looked confused as Adrian continued. "I wanted to give you a dose of your own rotten medicine, Malfoy. We both lied, Hermione and I, but I want it put down in the records that while my biggest lie precedes all of your known lies, mine and Hermione current lie is directly because of your lies, and Hermione only did it to teach you a lesson, and I did it because you pissed me off royally."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, beyond confused.

Adrian walked into his outer office, crossed over to his office and sat at his desk. Draco followed. He looked back once and said, "Join us, Granger, because I feel like I need someone to explain this to me, and I might need you to translate." She started to back out of the outer office. Draco made his way to her in two strides. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into Adrian's office.

Draco slammed the door shut. He pushed Hermione, not lightly, into a seat. He sat in the other. He said, "What's going on, Pucey? Was it a lie that you were going to prosecute Granger? Was it a lie that you were going to fire her? Did you cause her undue anguish for nothing?"

"Oh, Draco," Hermione said softly. He was worried that Adrian's lies had hurt her, when it was the complete opposite.

"Those are lies, yes, but Hermione was well aware that they were lies when she told them to you," Adrian said pointedly.

Draco quickly glanced toward Hermione, then back to Adrian. Adrian continued, "Our lies were necessary to give you a jolt. To let you see that all lies are wrong, Malfoy."

Draco looked at Hermione again, and all she could do was shrug. Finally, Adrian dropped the big bomb, the one that once detonated, was likely to destroy them all. He knew Draco's reaction would be quick and severe, so before he said anything else he said, "Hermione, stand up and come over here for a moment."

Draco's hand clamped down on her arm and he said, "She's fine where she is."

"Let her go," Adrian said steadily. He stood up. So did Draco. Hermione remained sitting, until Draco pulled her up as well. "Hermione, over here, please," Adrian urged again.

"GET ON WITH IT!" Draco shouted, holding Hermione's wrist in a death grip. Adrian opened his top desk drawer, and drew out his wand. He held it in his hand. Draco pulled his out.

Finally, Hermione had, had enough. She pulled her wrist from Draco's hand and went to stand at the end of the desk. She said, "Draco, there was never an employment contract. Adrian didn't have me sign one, because he thought you might seriously have an interest in me, and he didn't want to have me sign it, in case that was true. He didn't tell me that he didn't have me sign it, in fact, he never said anything to me about it, and I only found out about it after you told me this weekend."

Draco looked beyond stunned. Hermione continued, "He never told you he hadn't had me sign it, because he said he asked you plainly if you liked me, and you said that you didn't, so that made up his mind for him. He decided he would have me sign it when I came back to work after my long weekend. He never imagined that we would get together this weekend."

Draco reached across the desk, grabbed Adrian's collar, and then he hit him square in the nose. Adrian fell back in his seat, and held his nose. Draco danced around, holding his hand in his other hand.

"Ouch!" Draco shouted. "They never act like this hurts in Muggle movies."

"You broke my nose!" Adrian squawked.

"Well, your nose might have broken my hand," Draco said back. "It hurts like hell."

Hermione shook her head and started to leave. Before she could open the door, Draco turned her around with his other hand. "You lied to me."

"Yes, I did, which makes me the worse sort of hypocrite. That was my confession." It was the only thing she could say. She opened the door, and walked back down the hallway to her office.

Hermione stayed in her office for another hour. The sky was beginning to turn dark. She didn't know what to do. She wasn't sure she still had a job, a boyfriend, or her dignity. She felt horrible for lying to him. She felt horrible that he had lied. She was about to leave when there was a knock at her door.

Without her consent, the door opened and Draco appeared. Without preamble, he sat down in front of her desk.

"How's the hand?" she asked.

"Bruised, along with my pride and dignity," he said wearily. "You know, that was a lowdown, dirty thing you and Adrian did to me. You caused me unnecessary worry and pain with your little lie, and it wasn't fair. None of my lies was done callously. None of them were intended to cause you pain."

She knew she deserved everything he was saying, and perhaps more. She laid her head on her desk and said, "Can you forgive me?"

"It's not that easy," he admitted. "It was equally low down and dirty of you to pretend that Adrian threatened you with prosecution. Adrian explained everything however, and I've decided to forgive him."

She looked up. "Only him?"

Ignoring her question, he said, "I'm sorry for the thing with the Johnsons."

"I don't care about that," she said with irritation.

"What do you care about?" he asked flippantly.

"I care if you forgive me or not," she said back.

"Well, I don't think I do. Not yet. And the truth, as much as I now hate that word, is that after I finally confess everything to you, you may not forgive me either," he said.

She placed her head back on her desk and said, "Go on with it, then."

* * *

_A/N: I changed the name of this chapter due to a review left by Robyn Hawkes, so this chapter is dedicated to that reader! Thanks! Also, the random number I picked (I really had my daughter pick) of the review, which will get to decide which story comes next (although I will probably be able to handle both of them after I finish with FPIII and this) will undoubtedly be a review in this chapter. So there._

_Thanks to my beta, DHLane. I know this chapter had more mistakes than most, because I didn't give it a read through before I sent it. Thanks for fixing everything, sorry, and thanks! ONLY TWO MORE CHAPTERS!!!!!_


	35. Chapter 35 Accusation

**All characters belong to JKR**

**Chapter 35: Accusation:**

"Did it ever occur to you," Draco started, "that if you had come right back here and told me that there wasn't a contract, that things might have been different?"

Without lifting her head from her desk, she said, "That doesn't sound like a confession. That sounds more like an accusation to me." She lifted her head and said, "Let me ask you a couple of things."

"Go on with it then," he mocked her from a moment ago.

"Did you ever consider the fact that Adrian might have fired me in the beginning, the way he did those other two girls, if in fact, there was a contract?" she asked.

He took a couple of quick breaths and said, "I considered that. I thought it might happen, if he found out."

"Did you ever consider," she began again, "if you had been honest with Adrian in the beginning, about your feelings for me, that none of this would have happened, that he would have told YOU that there was no contract, and I would have been none the wiser and we wouldn't have faced so many hurdles this weekend."

He grimaced and said, more to himself, "Time for confessions." He sat upright and said, "That's the thing, Hermione. I think I was honest with him in the beginning. I wasn't harbouring some secret crush on you, some deep seeded unrequited love. I didn't feel an undying need to be with you. In the beginning, I really did see it as a challenge, as I've said, but more than that, it was a game, something new, because it was you. It also didn't hurt that I now found you attractive."

He stood up and walked over to her. Her expression hadn't changed, and he didn't know if that was good or bad. She was the epitome of apathy. "Remember how you said you changed your job, your hair, your car, and all of that because you wanted a challenge, right? You were stuck in one place. I felt sort of like that, too, it's just that you were my challenge. I mean, if I could get my former archenemy to fall for me, wouldn't that be something. You were so open and engaging that day in the lifts, that I thought it would be easy. I thought Adrian would be sort of impressed, because I not only pulled one over on him, bested him at his own game, but I bagged you, Hermione Granger, as well."

"Bagged me?" she asked. She felt tears begin to sting her eyes, but she WOULD NOT cry. She felt this was her just rewards. She wanted the man to be honest with her, so she couldn't fault him now.

He paused, because he could tell by her current expression that she was upset, which wasn't his intent, well, not fully. Mostly, he wanted to be honest for a change. Maybe he wanted a different life, too, just as she did.

He stood behind her chair, so she couldn't see his face. She stared out into the empty office and waited for more.

"Adrian knows me a bit too well," Draco continued, "I wanted to prove to him that his little contract couldn't stop me from something I really wanted. I wanted to sleep with you, rub it in his face, and if you got hurt or fired in the process, that was an added bonus."

She looked down at her lap. Her shoulders started to heave. She said, "I'm such a fool."

His hands came down on her shoulders, and she didn't have the fortitude to shrug them off. "Those were my honest to goodness intentions in the very beginning, and that's my confession to you. Only it was just in the very beginning, though. Only when I first hired you. It all changed after I got to thinking about you more and more, and then after you actually started work last Monday, it was no longer about that."

She put her arms on her desk again, and cradled her head on them. "If he had told you in the beginning that he wasn't going to have me sign the contract, what would you have done?"

He brought a hand up to her hair, and began to stroke it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He seemed nonplussed when he answered. "If he had told me that very first day, after I hired you in the lifts, that he wasn't going to have you sign it, because he just admitted to me in his office that was his intent from day one, then I probably wouldn't even have pursued you. What would have been the point?"

His hand went back up to the crown of her head, and he brought it back down slowly. "If he had told me on your first day of work, who knows? If he had told me after the staff meeting, after I held your hand after the meeting, I would still have planned to follow you to that bogus wedding. I would have still pretended to be your date, and I would have been determined to show you a nice birthday, and I am completely certain I would have still fallen in love with you."

He leaned down and kissed her exposed neck, from where he had just moved her hair. He whispered in her ear, "Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you, Granger, and that's all that matters at the end of the day."

Without sitting up, with her head still on her arms, and her voice still weary, she said, "Adrian mentioned to me that you were looking at a news clipping about me, after you hired me. Why?"

"I didn't know Adrian saw that," he admitted. He knelt beside her chair. He put his arm across her back, his face close to hers, and although her eyes were closed, he saw tears. He said softly, "If he had bothered to read it he would have seen that it was about you getting your job at the Ministry, right out of Uni, all those years ago."

She opened her eyes, but didn't raise her head. "Why did you keep something like that?"

"Because I was up for the same job." He stood up again. He sat on the edge of the desk. He reached down for one of her arms, and pulled her to stand between his legs. She placed her head on his shoulder, her hands on his chest. He stroked her back, up and down. "I kept it because I swore that someday I would have some big payback for you, because if I had gotten that job, I might have been happy. I'm sorry, but that's the truth. I'm petty. I'm selfish. I'm self-centered and bitter. But I hope all of those things have diminished, and I'd like to think that I'm becoming a better man now, that I truly have changed, because of my love for you, and your love for me."

She was too numb to speak. He got his payback, all right, ten fold. She began to move her head side to side. She looked at him and said, "Is all of this the truth, and everything that happened this weekend, the lie?"

"No," he said, desperately, for the first time raising his voice. "Haven't you heard a word I've said? Please, not everything. You have to know that. Have you misunderstood? I felt something when I held your hand in the conference room, which was the start of this. I swear."

He held her arms, pushing her slightly away from him, and he stood up from the desk. "When I followed you to the resort, my intentions had already changed. Were they still slightly shallow, yes, because instead of seeking revenge against you, or my need to best Pucey, my intentions at that time were totally my own and selfish still. You intrigued me, I thought you were pretty and smart and witty. I wanted to know you better, and possibly sleep with you. If I had known how to recognize an honest emotion back then, I might have even realized that my feelings were something more the moment that I stepped on your toe, if truth be told."

She tried to move from his grasp, which caused him to tighten his hold. "I know when I really decided it was different," he said.

"I don't want to hear anymore," she pleaded.

"You damn well, will," he said, raising his voice again. "When I sat next to you on the blanket, when I first arrived at the resort, I knew I wanted more. What that entailed at the time, I didn't have a clue. When you tried on that dress, and I walked in the dressing room, I swear, you were so beautiful and I wanted to kiss you so badly that I almost spontaneously combusted!"

"When that bloke that was your blind date maligned your character, and said all those nasty things about you, I wanted to punch him in the nose, although now that I know how much it hurts to hit someone, I will probably use magic in the future."

She looked down. He placed his thumb under her chin, to force her to look back up. "Even though everything he had said about you were feelings I had felt at sometime in my life for you, I knew in that moment that I didn't feel that way anymore. I wanted to defend you against him. It's one thing for me to think such things, but no one say's anything unkind about Hermione Granger, but me." He tried to smile. He wanted to lighten the mood. He was doing a terrible job of it.

"As I said, maybe if I had known how to recognize honest emotions earlier, I might have honestly fallen in love with you sooner than that," he ended.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice cracking. "What do you want me to say? Do you want me to forgive you and go on, even though a moment ago you said that you wouldn't forgive me?" She walked away from him, and continued, speaking so softly that he had to strain to listen. "I don't know what you want me to do. I can't…I can't work here. Now that there's no contract, I know if I quit I can seek other employment. First thing tomorrow, I'll see a solicitor about signing the resort back over to you. I can't keep it now."

"It's yours!" he said desperately. "That's what was written on the last note! I gave the resort to you. I even put the whole thing in your name, instead of keeping half for myself. I don't want it back. The note said that I bought it for you to solve our problems."

"I know, Draco!" she shouted. "I lied when I said I hadn't read it! I lied! I read it!" She sat in her chair again and repeated, "I lied."

He wanted to continue to try to convince her, but he didn't want to beat a dead horse. He said, "One last thing. Everything I told you, about the way I feel for you now, and everything that happened from our date Friday night, to before Adrian's confession, was the truth, and damn you to hell if you don't believe me."

He turned to go, walked out the door, reached the hallway, but somehow, he couldn't go any farther. He was a coward if he left it like this. He heard her crying. He didn't know if he could repair the damage that he had done. He shouldn't have told her the truth. He should have come in here, forgiven her, because after all, he forgave Pucey, and he didn't even like Pucey half as much as he loved her. He should have kept his little confession to himself, and buried it deep inside. She would never have been the wiser.

And she wouldn't be crying right now. He leaned against the hallway wall, and continued to listen to her cry for the longest time. He had a feeling that she had to know he was still out there. She finally stood up, shut off her light, and closed her door. She walked right past him. He followed. She walked to Adrian's office, opened the outer door, and slipped something on his secretary's desk. Draco slipped in behind her, and saw that it was a letter of resignation, effective in two weeks, also known as a 'two week notice'. How dare she. Well, he would make her last two weeks heaven, or hell. It was totally up to her. He placed her letter back on the desk and ran out into the hall to catch her.

She was in front of the lifts, and she pushed the button.

Draco walked up behind her.

She got on the lifts, and he got on as well. She looked ahead, he looked at her. He took his wand, and stopped the lifts.

He walked around to face her. His eyes were gleaming brightly. He pushed her toward the wall, with one hand. He cupped her neck with the other, his thumb on her jaw. He leaned down and kissed her hard on the mouth. He kissed her, and forced her mouth open under his. He lifted his face from hers once, then bent his head again, and placed his mouth back upon hers, gentler this time.

He kissed her tenderly, sweetly, and passionately. He rested his forehead against hers. "You wanted the truth, and now you're running away, what does that say about you?" he accused.

She placed her hand, dispassionately, on his face and said, "Remember when I told you that I was hurt once by a man, but that once was enough? Remember when I told you not to hurt me, and you said that you wouldn't? You lied about that, too, didn't you? You've hurt me, more than I thought possible. More than that man did."

"Why did you stop seeing him?" Draco asked.

She threw her arms around him, which surprised him. Then she said, "He was a liar, Draco. He lied to me, and I could never trust him again." She pushed away from him and said, "If for no other reason, thank you for a nice birthday. It was still the best I've ever had." She reached in her purse, and handed him the last, little triangle-note. He had forgotten about it. "Here, I won't need this now." She stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

She used her wand to start the lifts. As soon as the bell dinged, and she reached the lobby and disapparated away, without a single glance back.

He stood in the lobby and realized that he deserved the pain he was feeling, because he _had_ promised her he wouldn't hurt her, and he had, although at the time that wasn't a lie. He never set out to hurt her, not really.

He also knew that the truth was a load of shite. Lying was definitely easier to deal with, and easier to face. It hurt him less to lie, and it would have hurt her less if he had continued to lie. Starting tomorrow, he would win her back, with truths or lies.

He looked at the last note, and even though he knew what it said, he opened it.

His mouth flew open in shock when he read what was now written on the note. She had changed it, somewhere along the way, probably before their confessions. She had changed it! He folded it back neatly, stuffed it in his pocket, and began to formulate a plan, right then and there, of how he would win her back.

He thought it was time to up the ante; make her realize that she couldn't quit either him or the company! It might even be time for drastic measures. For that, he had to call someone he hadn't spoken to in a long time, Ginny Weasley.

* * *

_A/N This was to be the second to the last chapter, but after I wrote the last chapter, I found myself drawn to my computer and I wrote a chapter to go between this one and the last, which means there will be two more. Thanks. I'll post again soon. (I sent a PM to the person who is to pick my next project, but haven't heard back yet. If I don't hear back from them, I'll pick myself. Thanks!)_


	36. Chapter 36 Notice

All characters belong to JKR

**Chapter 36: Notice:**

Tuesday:

Hermione walked briskly into the office, a bit before eight. She wasn't concentrating on where she was going, so she ran right into the man she most wanted to avoid. She looked up at him, said neither a greeting nor a salutation, and then she walked around him to walk on into her office. He looked as if he wanted to say something to her, and she took an almost perverse pleasure knowing that he was at a loss for words. He couldn't expect to behave atrociously and then just be forgiven, could he. He hadn't even forgive her yet.

Spitefulness wasn't usually a word that could be applied to Hermione Granger, but she felt very spiteful today. She asked her assistant to get her a copy of the Daily Prophet, adding, "I only need the employment ads." Her assistant looked shocked, but nodded.

She planned to do nothing for two whole weeks. She only gave a two-week notice because it would look better on her resume if she did. Doing things well was usually her creed, and her fondest ambition, but nothing about working here urged her to conduct herself in any way befitting a happy employee. She was disgruntled, somewhat rueful, but angry, and she didn't care who knew it.

At ten, her assistant director told her that Draco Malfoy wanted to have a meeting with their entire staff concerning an internship program. Hermione smiled and said, "Go on without me."

At ten after ten, her assistant director came back to her office and said, "He says if you aren't there in ten minutes, he's firing all of us."

"That dirty bastard," she said aloud.

She joined them in the staffroom.

"Have you an outline to present to me on the internship program yet, Granger?" he asked.

Hermione looked at him annoyed and said, "I haven't had any time to even discuss it with my staff yet, Malfoy. I just told you about it this weekend."

"Usually you're on top of things. I'm disappointed," he said.

"I don't care," she said. She folded her arms in front of her.

"You better care," he said.

Everyone in the room sat back in their chairs.

"Or what will happen? Will you fire me? I've already given you my notice," she said.

Everyone in the room gasped, as this was news to them all.

"Oh, that silly thing? I've decided to ignore it," he told her. "You're probably lying anyway. I'll give you until tomorrow afternoon to brainstorm with your staff, and then you'll present it to me and Adrian at three. Everyone can leave."

Everyone stood up, except for Hermione. She looked at a couple of them, and waved them out the door.

Draco started writing something on a piece of parchment. Hermione cleared her throat. He reached in his pocket, without looking at her, and passed her a throat lozenge. She picked it up, unwrapped it, and then threw it at him. It bounced on his head and then hit the table. He looked up finally.

She had her arms crossed.

"Did you want something?" he asked.

"I'm not lying! I really gave you my notice!"

"Then I'm lying when I say that I don't care, because I do care. Furthermore, I've chosen to ignore it." Apparently, he also planned to ignore her, because he went back to writing on his stupid, piece of parchment.

After a few quiet moments she yelled, "Fire me, then!"

"You wouldn't want your squeaky, clean reputation soiled would you? No, I shall not fire you, nor do I accept your resignation. Now, be a good girl and get to work." His head bent back down, and he continued to write.

She stood up and walked out.

She went to her staff, told them her plans and ideas for the internship program, and then told them all to get to work on it. There, she did her duty.

She went home that night angry and confused. She didn't understand him. If he wasn't going to forgive her, and he wouldn't accept her notice, then why wouldn't he just go ahead and fire her? She was in bed that night thinking about that very thing when her phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Granger, what are you doing?" Draco asked.

She sat up in bed and said, "What do you think I'm doing?" She looked at her clock, and it was after eleven. "I'm in bed!"

"Are you alone? In other words, I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" he said with a leer. Although he was on the phone, she was sure he was smirking.

"No, Malfoy, you did not!"

"Good, just checking, I'll see you tomorrow, and by the way, I forgive you," he said. "Goodbye and I love you."

She slammed the phone on the cradle.

Wednesday:

Hermione was having a terrible morning already, and it was only eleven o'clock. She was walking down to the break room earlier, looked behind her as she was walking, (because Draco called her name from the other end of the hall), and she ran into a planter and scraped her knee.

Then, she spilled ink on her, when she was leaning on her assistant's desk. Now she had a blue blob on her skirt.

Then, she asked to see the newest edition of the want ads in the paper, and when her assistant handed her the paper, and she opened it to the right spot, there was only one ad, and it said, "Wanted, forgiveness. If interested, call Draco Malfoy." She balled up the paper and threw it on the floor.

She met with her staff to go over the specks for the internship program, and then she decided to take lunch in her office. She started to unwrap her cheese sandwich, when Draco walked into her office, without knocking.

She growled.

"You have a big ink stain on your skirt, did you know?" he asked, pointing at her skirt, before sitting on the edge of her desk.

"Go away," she said. She took one bite of her sandwich before he took it from her and threw it toward the rubbish bin. It landed on the floor, in pieces.

"Magic could remove that spot, you know," he said. He swung his legs back and forth like a four-year-old boy.

"Magic could remove you, too," she said contritely.

She took one bite of her apple, when he took it out of her hand, took a large bite, and then threw it over his shoulder. It landed in the vicinity of her sandwich.

"Are you here to torment me, or to make me quit before my two weeks are up?" she asked.

He reached for her face, cupped her cheek, moved his thumb back and forth on her face, and said, "I'm not asking for your forgiveness, but I want you to know that I totally forgive you, and I know that soon you'll forgive me, too. I'll see you at three o'clock."

Hermione waited until 3:12 to enter the conference room. Her entire staff was already there, but apparently, he held the meeting for her. She regretted that her staff had to suffer because she was angry at Malfoy, so she made her apologies to everyone, but then looked at Draco and said, "Of course, I'm not sorry to you, Mr. Malfoy, and regarding what you asked me for earlier, the answer is no. I can't forgive you, and I don't want your forgiveness, either." In her head, she added, 'so there.'

Adrian shook his head in disgust.

Several of the other employees gave each other strange looks, but then Hermione began to give the presentation, followed by several other staff members. Adrian spoke up first and said, "Everything seems sound. Let's get this ready for implementation by next month, shall we?"

He concluded the meeting, and then he said, "Hermione, stay for a moment. Malfoy wants to talk to you." He looked at Malfoy on his way out and said, "Don't screw this up. She could be the best thing to happen to this company and to you." He shut the door on the way out.

"You smell nice," Draco said. He stood up to stand beside her on the other end of the table.

"Stop smelling me," she said with a sigh. He sat in the chair beside her, and with his foot, he pushed her chair out from the table, and then he turned her chair to face his chair. She decided that he was a cad, he was rude, and a liar. So there! Nothing he said could change that. She didn't care if he forgave her or not.

He looked nice today, however. His jacket was off, his shirt sleeves rolled up. His tie loose and his hair slightly disheveled. She liked when his hair was messy. He leaned back in his chair, and crossed his foot over his leg. His knee was touching her knee. "How are you, my Granger?"

"Is this why I'm staying behind? So you can ask me about my wellbeing?" she asked back.

"I see you have casual civility down pat," he said sarcastically, "And I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"I didn't ask," she snapped.

"I know," he snapped back. "Do you like your work here at DM Enterprises? That's our name now, did you know? But back on track, do you like your work here?"

She closed her mouth into a tight line. She crossed her arms in front of her.

He leaned forward and with a glint in his grey eyes said, "I can see that you love it, more than life itself."

"Humph!" she expelled.

He looked at her legs and then up her body. His eyes stayed on her breasts a bit too long, before they traveled back up to her face.

"I can see you like me working here, you pervert," she said.

"Thank you for noticing, yes, I have to say that I do."

She stood up and said, "Thank you, now I have work to do on the internship program."

He pushed her back down into her chair.

"That won't fly, Malfoy! You can't touch me! There will be no physical mistreatment!"

"That's indeed in the employment contract, but you didn't sign one, so HA!" He stood up and pulled her up as well. He crashed her into his chest. His nose was next to hers, and her face was forced upward so that she could stare into his eyes. His mouth hovered precariously over hers, and then he moved his mouth to her ear and whispered, "I forgive you, you forgive me, and you're going to continue to work here until I say you can't. Do you understand me? By the way, I love you."

His hands were still on her shoulders, but they were soft, almost as soft as his lips, which were now on hers. He found her lips soft as well and quite suppliant, which surprised him. He moved careful over her mouth, aware that she might leave him at any second. He finally breached the last barrier, his tongue sunk deeply into her mouth, and he heard a small moan in the back of her throat. He moved instinctively closer, applied more pressure, and angled his head just right, because he wanted this kiss to matter. He wanted this kiss to change her mind.

She knew it was insane to indulge him, but she felt powerless to stop, however, her head finally won over her heart, and though he was an expert kisser, that was for sure, she wasn't going to be misled by him.

He finally lifted his head, but he still had her shoulders. Her hands were on his chest. Her cheeks were flushed, and he had sweat on the back of his neck. He spoke, which brought her from her trance. He said, "I know that you forgive me, or you wouldn't kiss me like that, my Granger. And you have to know that I forgive you, or I wouldn't kiss that, either."

She never remembered being as furious at another human being as she felt at him at that moment. She sunk the heel of her high-heeled shoes into the toe of his shoe, and he screamed. She pushed him back into his chair, and whipped around to the other side of the table.

"No maltreatment, Granger!" he yelled. He sat back in the chair, and held his foot.

"I didn't sign a bloody, employment contract, Malfoy, so sod off!" she shouted back.

Did he really think that she was some weak little female who would be persuaded by his sexual appeal? Did he think that she wouldn't be able to resist his inevitable charms? Did he think she was that desperate?

She pointed her finger toward his chest and said, "My two week notice just turned to a one week notice, Malfoy!" She ran to the door and before she left she said, "And newsflash, I don't forgive you, so you can take your forgiveness to me and stuff it up your arse," and this time, she added aloud, "so there!"

Thursday:

One of her staff members walked in her door and said, "Is something wrong Hermione?"

"I have headache," she said. She really did. A bigger headache than just a man named Draco Malfoy.

"Is what you said in the staff meeting yesterday true? Are all the rumors true?" the young girl asked.

Hermione felt panicked. "What rumors?" Had everyone here at work already heard about her weekend with the boss?

"Did you really give your two week notice already?" she asked her.

"I changed it to a one week, but yes, I did," Hermione said, relieved.

"But, the internship program is the best thing we've worked on in a while, and you're the best boss we've had for a while. I heard that you're leaving because or Mr. Malfoy. Is that true?" she asked.

"Well," Hermione dragged out. So, they _had _all heard the rumors about the weekend.

"We heard that you hated each other in school, and that he was a bully to you, and he used to call you Mudblood. Is that why you're leaving? Is he still acting horrible to you? He acts that way pretty much to everyone, you know," she told Hermione.

So, they _hadn't_ heard_ those_ rumors. They heard old gossip and stories from their school days. "He was less than an endearing person in school, that's true," Hermione said regretfully. "But he's not that way to me now. I'm leaving for my own reasons, okay?"

"We'll miss you," she said.

Draco stood in the open door and said, "We all will." The girl hurried out of the office and Draco closed the door.

Hermione placed both hands over her forehead and said, "I really do have a headache, and his name _is _Draco Malfoy." She was talking more to herself, than to him.

"Shall I kiss away the pain?" he asked with a smile.

"You would have to kiss yourself, to kiss away my pain," she said spitefully.

"Tsk, tsk," he said, walking around to her desk. He leaned over her and said, "Would you like to join me for dinner tonight? It occurred to me that we haven't gone out since we've been back."

"Are you really this dense, or is it an act?" she asked, staring up at him incredulously.

"This is really me," he answered. "Would you like a potion for your headache?"

"No," she said softly.

"Here," he said, placing his hands on her forehead, and standing behind her chair. "Let me help you." He began to rub her temples with the middle finger of each hand. Then he stroked both hands through her hair, threading his fingers through her brown, soft waves. He kept his fingers in her hair, as his thumbs rub the base of her neck. It felt heavenly. It felt slightly sensual. It felt like trouble. It also felt like she was beginning to forgive him.

She lolled her head to one side, and he bent down and kissed the juncture of her neck, near her shoulder, where her blouse gapped open slightly. He kept one hand on her head, as his mouth continued to suck on this sensitive spot. His left hand moved slowly down her arm. He grasped her hand.

He pulled her to stand suddenly. He held her in the strong bands of his arms. Her arms went under his, around his waist.

"You're so beautiful, even with a headache." He smiled sinfully and said, "I want to make love to you."

She realized she had to break this hold he temporarily had on her. She had to regain her control. She pushed him away, and ran out of her own office. She was confused, slightly unhinged, sexually startled, and hungry. She also still had a headache.

That evening, she stood by the lifts, by herself. She had worked late on the internship program. She was sorry that she wouldn't be able to see it to fruition. She felt a possessive hand travel up her back, to rest on her neck. She watched for the lift doors to open, but didn't push him away. His touch was light, as his fingers caressed her neck.

They both entered the lifts, and turned around at the same time, the whole time his hand still on her neck. He asked, "How's the headache." She turned to look at him. His hand traveled lightly around her neck to her shoulder, where his index finger went to the neckline of her shirt, tracing it back and forth, from one shoulder to the other. A familiar tingling went through her like aftershocks of an earthquake. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and she hated that fact.

Finally, the doors opened. Without exiting she said, "Fine, I accept that you forgive me and even that you love me. But I'm not willing to forgive you, at least not yet, and the fact is that I may never forgive you." She walked out of the lift, leaving him staring at her back. She turned and said, "I've decided that tomorrow is now my last day. Goodbye, Malfoy."

Friday:

She arrive extra early that morning. If this was to be her last day, she had a lot of work to do. She slipped in her office, shut the door before turning on the lights, accidentally dropped her purse, bent to pick it up, and then when she turned on her light, she screamed.

"AAUUUGH! What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

He backed her against the wall without a word. He took her purse from her hand, and threw it back on the floor. He planted his hands on each side of her body, so she couldn't move.

She was almost breathless when she warned, "Malfoy, don't."

"Sh," he hushed. He claimed her mouth with a passion that had not diminished from the last time he kissed her, the day before. It was too early in the morning for her to fight him, he assumed, because she was no longer cautious, or hesitant. She was no longer dispassionate. She offered him no resistance. Her lips opened willingly under his.

His entire body surged to life, as did hers. Her skin quivered with warmth. His hands left the wall to grasp her shoulders. He thanked the stars above that she had on a pretty dress today, which had a low neckline, and a flowing skirt. He placed a thigh between her legs, pressing on her core. His hands moved to her face and he looked up at her and said, "If you continue to deny what we both know is the truth, then not only does that make you a bigger liar than me, but a bigger fool, as well."

His tongue traveled down her neck. He licked and kissed his way down to the expose swell of her breasts. He groaned slightly, as one hand parted her dress, and he cupped a breast over her bra. His other hand was in her hair.

"Malfoy, please," she whispered, licking her lips.

"Please, what, my Granger?" he mumbled against her skin. His mouth was kissing her cleavage. He opened the top of her dress as much as he could and his mouth went to the tip of one breast, to kiss the top of the lace-covered point. He looked up at her and said, "I love your lacy bra, Granger. Very sexy."

His mouth traveled back up her breasts, to her collarbone, to her neck, to her ear. She hung on to him for support. Her hands went to his hair and she pushed his face closer. His mouth came back to hers, his hand traveling downward, to lift the hem of her dress. His hand ran up and down her smooth, bare thigh.

She frowned as he moved his mouth to nuzzle her breasts again. She didn't frown because what he was doing was unpleasant. She frowned because he said, "I knew you would do it in the end," as he was kissing the top of her breasts.

She pushed him away with such force that he tumbled and fell on his backside.

"Is this still a game to you? Have I just presented a new challenge to you with my resignation? Oh my GOD!" She bent to pick up her purse. She tried to open the door, but he was quicker. He stood up quickly, and from behind her, he pushed it shut and turned her to face him.

"Stop being such an idiot!" he shouted. "I meant that I knew you would forgive me in the end!"

His hands were like clamps holding her arms. She sunk her head in his chest and said, "If you have even one ounce of remorse, dignity, and love for me, you'll let me go."

"Granger, you are the most obstinate, difficult woman I've ever encountered," he barked. She continued to bury her face in his chest. "Hermione, look at me please."

She shook her head no.

"Please, look at me."

She consented. Her eyes filled with tears, and he felt as if every, single, negative comment anyone had ever said to him, or about him, was one hundred percent true at that moment. She shouldn't forgive him. He hadn't earned it yet, but he would. He let her go. She picked up her purse again.

She opened the door, and he let her. She turned and said, "I can't even finish out the day. I'm sorry. The thing is, I do forgive you now, but I'll probably never trust you again, and that's my problem, not yours. I guess after all has been said and done, I'm still the same old Hermione Granger after all, and more's the pity, right?"

She ran down the hall. He watched her until she turned the corner. She ran past Adrian. He said, "Where are you going, Hermione? The work day's just begun."

She turned quickly and said, "It's over, Adrian."

Adrian walked toward Draco's office, when he saw that he was standing in the doorway of hers. He approached his friend and said, "You have to fix this, or I will."

"Don't worry; the plan is already in motion. I enlisted the help of someone, and together we've come up with a plan, in case I wasn't able to sway her this week, which I guess I wasn't. We just have to give it time."

Draco started toward his own office. Adrian walked beside him. Draco said, "I know for you, you just don't want to lose a good employee, but for me, if she leaves, I'll lose part of myself, a brand new part, but the best part. I just realized that while Hermione Granger was searching for a new her, she made me discover a new me. Does that make sense?"

Adrian smiled at him and patted his arm. He thought it made perfect sense, and bully for Hermione Granger for finally teaching Draco Malfoy a very important truth.

_A/N Coming up, the real last chapter._


	37. Chapter 37 No Lie

**All characters belong to JKR**

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_A/N: This was just sitting in the document manager upload file, waiting to be uploaded, so I thought...why wait. It's over, done, so I might as well post it. Thanks to my beta, DHLane. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed it, and made it my fourth most reviewed story, and my ninth most read. I hope you all continue to read my new things. There's another note at the bottom. Thanks again!_

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**Chapter 37: No Lie:**

Hermione sat on the couch in her new townhouse and began to search the employment ads in the Daily Prophet, for what felt like the one-hundredth time. It was becoming a morning ritual. Since she had quit her job two weeks ago at DM Enterprises, or whatever the place was called now, she found herself looking at the employment ads every morning for her old job, as well as a new one. She still hadn't seen a listing for her former job of Director of Marketing and Development in the paper yet. Perhaps they hired someone from within.

She had borrowed some money from her parents, to help her get by until she found another job. She thought she might start her own business, a consulting firm or something. Maybe she would give lectures and seminars to companies about honesty and the perils of lying. She wasn't sure yet. Maybe she would become a lazy oaf, and never get another job. One could dream, couldn't they?

She went to a lawyer and with his help, she was able to transfer the title of the resort back to Draco's name. The lawyer was going to make sure Draco signed the papers. That was a heavy weight off her shoulders.

She found herself thinking of him constantly. She regretted that she'd acted so hastily, and that she hadn't forgiven him. It wasn't because she was now unemployed that she regretted her childish behavior. It was because she missed him. She also regretted giving him that last note back. Before his big confession, she had changed it to a marriage proposal TO HIM. She felt so foolish. Perhaps he threw it away without reading it, since he wouldn't have had any clue that she had changed it. She hoped so.

She missed him. She really did. She was just too stubborn to do anything about it. She found herself outside his office building twice. She didn't even know where he lived, which struck her as funny, or she might have visited there, too. He had never been to her home, either. Yet, she loved him. How strange was that? One weekend with the man, and she was in love. That sort of thing usually only happened in books and stories.

Speaking of writing, she almost wrote to him three different times, but decided against it.

She continued to look at the want ads, and she realized that she could always go back to the Ministry, crawl in there, repentant, and ask for her old job back. Harry had told her that they hadn't filled it yet. That was probably because it wasn't an essential job, and they didn't need to fill it.

Had Draco Malfoy really put in for that job when she had, all those years ago? Well, he wouldn't have liked it any better than she did, so in a way, she did him a favour by getting the job over him. He should have rewarded her, instead of seeking revenge.

She hated to admit it, but she wanted a new job where 'Innovation' could be her middle name, as corny as that sounded. Her job with Malfoy did allow her to be innovative, and resourceful. It had allowed her to be creative, and to think. She often stayed awake at night, wondering if she had allowed herself to stay there, what she might have been able to accomplish. It staggered her mind.

At least that little want ad about 'Innovation and middle names' caught her eye in the beginning. It led her to her new job, which led her to Malfoy, which led her to the best weekend and the best birthday she had ever had. Which led her to unhappiness, and to being unemployed again. It was a vicious cycle.

Her phone rang and she was tempted not to answer. Every time her phone rang over the last two weeks she expected it to be Malfoy, but it never was. Now, she found that she wanted it to be him each time it rang, but she knew it wouldn't be. She gave up that fear, (or was it hope?) that she would receive a phone call from him, days ago. He had apparently moved on. Good for him.

By the eighth ring, it was apparent the person wasn't going to hang up, so she answered with a quick, "What?"

"Hermione?" the woman asked.

"Yes, this is Hermione Innovation Granger, who is this?" she said flippantly.

"I thought your middle name was Jean?" Ginny asked with a laugh.

"I might change it," Hermione joked. Ginny knew everything that had happened between her and Malfoy. All of her friends did. The day she left his office, she called them all to come to her house, where she told them everything.

Harry was supportive, if not somewhat relieved that she would no longer be involved with Malfoy.

Ginny was slightly upset, told her that she was partially to blame, and censured her for a moment.

Ron was apologetic, knowing that he was the one that had caused her to no longer trust men who lied, because he had once lied to her, and it scarred her apparently, so much so that she no longer trusted anyone, and for that, he felt slightly guilty.

Still, they were all supportive, but she hadn't heard from any of them in two weeks. Until now. "Ginny, what do you want this morning?"

"Wow, you don't seem happy to hear from me," Ginny said.

"It's been almost two weeks since I've spoken to you, that's all," Hermione answered. "I'm happy to hear from you, however." As soon as she said it, she recognized that it was a slight lie. She wasn't that happy to hear from her. She lied a lot these days. She probably _always_ lied a lot, but only little white lies such as that one. It was just that now she tended to point them out to herself. She wondered why. She knew the main reason was that she no longer opposed lies that would keep other from being hurt or upset. That was one of her new rules. She learned that one from Draco Malfoy. Bless his little lying heart.

"I have a proposition for you," Ginny said finally.

"No."

"Don't you even want to hear it?"

"No."

"Please," Ginny begged.

"What is it?" Hermione relented.

"Don't be angry, but I set you up on another blind date, tonight, at Serpent's Cove again, but I swear, I know this man, and he has no known aversion to the prettiest member of the golden trio, and I think you'll like him a lot. It's time to get off your arse, and get to living your new life again, old girl."

Hermione's knee-jerk reaction was to scream into the phone, "Are you mad?" but instead, she was polite and said, "I'm not ready."

"Oh," Ginny began, "I see. You like wallowing in doom and gloom and self-pity. You like being miserable. All that talk a month ago about exploring new possibilities, and living a new life was just that, talk, right?" Before Hermione could interject, Ginny said, "You were the 'New Hermione Granger', but only in theory. I have to tell you, I liked that Hermione Granger. You need to forget about Malfoy, forget about that stupid job, get off your bum, and go have a fab time with a fab man, Harry's treat!"

"Harry's paying for this date?" Hermione asked, confused. "What, is he a pimp now?"

Ginny laughed and said, "What I meant was, he's going to pay for your stay at the resort. You'll have dinner, dancing, and then you'll have a room to stay at later, alone or with the fellow, after the date is done. You can come home the next day. It's not like you'll be missing work, or anything." Ginny laughed.

Hermione sighed into the receiver, and then there was an extended silence.

"Hermione, are you still alive over there?" Ginny asked.

"Fine, what's his name?"

"Really? You're agreeing to go?" Ginny asked, excited.

"I'm not agreeing to anything. I want to know the man's name," Hermione said.

"Well, I might have lied," Ginny answered.

Why didn't that surprise Hermione? It appeared that everyone lied, all the time. "What was your lie?"

"I don't really know him," she confessed.

"NO!" Hermione shouted.

"Listen," Ginny said, "Harry knows him. You trust Harry don't you? He wouldn't set you up with a loser!"

She knew one thing. Harry Potter was the most honest person she knew, and he certainly wouldn't set her up with a loser, but then again, Ginny could be lying. Perhaps Harry had nothing to do with this. "What's his name? I need to know, so I can find out a few things about him."

"Harry only told me his first name. I think he said it was David. I know it started with a 'D'."

Hermione quickly became angry and said, "It better not be DEREK MALONE!"

"Who's that? Anyway, I'm sure it wasn't Derek," Ginny pressed on. "No, I'm pretty sure it was David."

"It's not Draco Malfoy, is it?" Hermione asked with ire.

"Would Harry Potter set you up on a date with Draco Malfoy?" Ginny asked.

Hermione knew that didn't answer her question. She doubted that Harry had anything to do with this. She asked outright, "Would you set me up on a date with Draco Malfoy?"

Ginny was quiet for a moment. "Hermione, why don't you trust me? That hurts, you know."

"Answer the question and perhaps your pain will be eliminated," Hermione retorted.

Ginny was quiet again and said, "Seriously, you wound me. His name is David, and he'll meet you tonight at Serpent's Cove. Wear a white rose in your hair again. I told him that was how he would know you, and you'll know him because he'll have one in his lapel button."

"Ginny Weasley, if this is Draco Malfoy you're setting me up with, I'll never forgive you, you realize that don't you? I'm giving you one last chance to tell me the truth. Is my blind date with Draco Malfoy?" Hermione pleaded.

Ginny was quick to answer this time. "I swear, I'm not lying," she lied. She could live with Hermione's threats of not forgiving her, if the result was that she was happy. "Now, are you going or not?"

Hermione wanted to believe her, but she also wanted it to be Draco, so she felt she was in a quandary. She asked, "What time?"

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Draco was so nervous. He never remembered being this nervous in his life. He wanted everything to be perfect. He had just received a call from Ginny telling him that Hermione had agreed to everything. She was coming! He knew she was smart, and had probably already figured everything out…well, not everything, but she probably knew the date was with him. She probably was coming armed and dangerous. She was probably going to hex him as soon as she saw him. He wasn't sure he cared. He deserved it.

He rushed around the completely empty dining room and called the headwaiter over, and asked, "Is everything ready, Martin?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy. I really don't know how we got everything done in two weeks, though. It's a wonder," the man answered.

"Are all of her friends and family in place?" Draco asked.

"I assure you, everything is ready," he answered.

The entire resort was empty; since Draco had the staff members rebooks all the other guests to a different week, all on him. The whole place was theirs for the weekend. The other hotels along the beach weren't as busy, since it was the beginning of fall, and Serpent's Cove was the biggest resort on the boardwalk. That meant they would practically have the whole boardwalk to themselves as well.

He checked his rose. It was slightly crooked. He moved it a little to the left. One of the bellhops ran into the dining room and said, "She's here everyone! She just walked in. She looks so pretty."

Draco felt slightly jealous, and he almost told the young man off, but hell, he was sure that she did look pretty. He said, "Places everyone."

He stood by the door of the restaurant, to await his cue.

Hermione walked into the resort, and was struck by the fact that she hadn't seen another living soul, (or guest) since she arrived. She walked up to the desk and said, "Hello, my name is Hermione Granger and I believe I have a room booked."

"Yes, Miss Granger," the clerk said. "It's so nice to see you again. We have you booked in the penthouse suite."

"Oh," she said. "Um, isn't that Draco Malfoy's private suite?"

"Yes, but when he's not using it, we often rent it out, and Mr. Potter asked for the nicest room for you, and one doesn't say no to Mr. Potter, now does one?" The man smiled.

Hermione found herself smiling back. She had already dressed for her date. She had on a royal blue dress, which she had bought quickly after she talked to Ginny this morning. She did everything quickly. She showered, changed, shopped, packed, did her hair and make-up, and then she apparated to the resort, all in that order.

"Could you perhaps get me a white rose?" Hermione asked. It was the last thing she needed.

The man sent a bellhop to get her a white rose.

She sat down on one of the sofas near the fireplace, in the lobby, to wait. She smoothed out the skirt of her dress, and smoothed down her long hair. She bit her bottom lip nervously. If her blind date wasn't with Draco, she would be terribly disappointed. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and then she felt a rose petal brush against her cheek. She closed her eyes.

The rose traveled back up her cheek. She only opened her eyes when the slight pressure lifted. The person moved from the back of the couch to the front, to face her. In front of her was Draco Malfoy, holding a white rose.

She stood.

He handed her the rose.

She accepted, placed the short stem behind her ear, and secured it with a bobby pin she had in her hand.

"Are you my date?" she asked.

"Yes," was all he could say.

"Your name isn't David."

"No, it's not. Who told you that? Whoever it was is a big, fat liar," he said with a smile.

"I'm sorry," she said. She reached for him, but drew her hand back.

"For what?" he asked.

"For not trusting you and for overreacting. I'm sorry that I didn't listen fully to your explanation. I've thought about everything that's happened over the last two weeks, and I've come to one conclusion."

"Which is?" he asked, hopeful of a positive response.

"You were truthful, and I was reproachful, and you love me, and you forgave me when I lied, and I didn't grant you the same courtesy, and so that's why I'm sorry."

"I thought perhaps you were sorry that I had left a thorn on your rose," he joked.

"Did you, now? I hadn't noticed," she said, smiling.

"Dinner awaits us, but first, would you like to take a walk along the boardwalk?" he asked. He took her hand before she could answer.

They went out the front doors. She shivered, partly from the cold, but more from the anticipation of what was to come. She had a wrap across her arm, which he removed to place across her shoulders.

The sun was already setting, since it was now autumn, and the days were shorter. He held her hand, and he brought it to his mouth, to kiss her knuckles.

"We haven't filled your job, you know, because I still refuse to accept your resignation," he explained. "Although I must reprimand you for taking two weeks off work without consent."

"Reprimand away and it's a good thing that you haven't filled my job, because I have so many great ideas. I can't wait to come back to work," she said hurriedly, "and I can't wait to go out on a proper date with you."

"You mean the weekend of your birthday was improper?" he asked with a crooked smile. "My oh my, I wasn't even aware."

"I just mean that I'm excited for tonight," she said. "And for a blind date which I already know will turn out well."

"Ah," he said, pulling her to stop by 'their' bench. "You had me all figured out, did you?"

"Well, it was pretty easy. Ginny isn't as good a liar as you are," she began. "Besides, if you hadn't arranged this soon, I was going to do the exact same thing."

"I'm glad to hear that," he started, "Conversely, I would have you know that I no longer lie for any reason. Truthfulness is now my middle name."

"Really?" she asked. "I decided 'Innovation' was mine now," she joked.

He shook his head and said, "Silly thing." He leaned forward and kissed her. He said, "I have a bit of a surprise. Close your eyes." She did as requested. He still put his hand over her eyes, as he guided her out toward the beach.

"Are you going to drown me?" she asked.

"Not unless you peek," he promised.

He continued to hold his hand over her eyes, but she could tell that something was definitely happening. She could hear people whispering, and she could hear footsteps on the boardwalk, when a moment ago there was none but theirs. She heard people walking in the sand, and she could tell that people were surrounding them.

He removed his hand, and said, "Open your eyes."

In front of her were all her friends, and her family, as well as their coworkers, and his friends and family. She looked over at Draco in shock. His previous dark suit was changed to an off-white one, similar to the one he wore that day to the cathedral. She looked down, and her royal blue dress was now off-white and prettier than she could ever imagine.

Her mouth was still opened in shock. He put his hands on her shoulders, and turned her around, to face a man holding a book.

The man said, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here, today, on this very special day, to witness the joining of this man and this woman in holy matrimony."

She looked back over at Draco, and smiled. He handed her a large bouquet of white roses. She turned back toward the Minister, and didn't say another word until she was asked to say, "I do."

Later, as they danced at their reception, with all their friends and family members around them she said, "I thought my last blind date was nice, but this one was so much better."

He smiled, and with his right hand still on her back, he reached down into his coat pocket and removed the now tattered, last little, triangle. He said, "I took your note seriously, you know. You asked me to marry you, and this was just my way of saying yes."

"I was mortified that I gave that to you, after I left the way I did," she admitted, burying her head in his chest.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, tilting her chin up with his hand, "I think it was rather calculated of you. I think you handed that to me, fully aware that this would be the end result."

"Well, I might have lied a little bit when I said I was mortified," she waned.

"Hermione Granger lied?" he asked with eyes wide. He pinched her bum. "I'm ashamed."

"What can I say? I like to lie now. I find it fun and refreshing. You'll never know whether you can trust anything that comes out of my mouth. I might say one thing, and mean another," she concluded.

"Oh, I doubt that," he said. He kissed her cheek. "I think you might be lying at the moment, but I think that's probably the last lie you're ever utter to me."

"Not the very last, I'm sure," she said. "I will tell you one truth. I don't want this ever to end, okay?"

"Fine, we'll dance forever," he promised. "My Granger. Hey, I just realized, I can't call you that anymore. That's no longer your last name." He lifted one hand to her face, leaned forward, and kissed her sweetly on the lips. Her whole body stiffened beside his. She leaned into him as well, and their bodies melded into each other. She felt this kiss all the way down to her toes. Her body ached for him.

His other hand lifted from her waist, to slide to her back. He held her tightly against his chest and whispered, "Do you think our guests would mind if we went on to our honeymoon?"

"Who cares what they think?" she asked back. "It's only what we think that matters from now on, agreed?"

He brought his eyebrows up and said, "I like this selfish side of you. Is this a new trait in which I have to look forward?"

"There are all sorts of things about me for you to look forward to, and that's the truth," she said. She kissed him, took his hand, and led him out of the restaurant, not glancing back at their guests even once.

Adrian reached them once they were in the lobby and held out a piece of parchment. "I have a pre-nuptial agreement I need you to sign."

Hermione laughed and said, "And once again, you're too late, Pucey. You should have had me sign it BEFORE I married him. Now, I'll never sign it."

Draco smiled, and gave Adrian a conceited look, until Adrian said, "Oh, this is for Draco to sign. It just says that he can never divorce you, under any circumstances, however, you may divorce him for any reason, and you get everything if you do."

"WHAT?" Draco all but shouted. "I won't sign it!"

Adrian hit Draco over the head with the piece of paper, reminiscent of that first day in the lifts when Draco hit Adrian over the head with a folder, and he said, "Granger is insulted. Tell him you're insulted, Granger."

"Sign the contract, Draco, and let's get to our honeymoon," she said, acting bored.

"I shall not sign any piece of crap contract, which says I get nothing. That's un-Dracoish!" Draco complained.

"So, I decided to start doing things that were un-Hermionish, so you should start doing things that are un-Dracoish. Sign it," she ordered.

Adrian held out a pen and unfolded the paper. Draco glared, but then he signed it. Adrian handed it to Hermione, and she signed it as well. Adrian folded the parchment, placed it back in his pocket, and laughed the whole way back to the restaurant.

They entered the lifts, her on one side, and him on another. He said, "Was that your intention all along, to get me to fall in love with you, so that you could get everything in the end."

"That does sound like the new me," she said coyly.

He took a side step toward her, and then stepped on her foot.

"Ouch!" she said.

"Sorry, but Adrian made me feel sentimental. I wanted to relive the feelings I felt the first time I saw you again," he said. Then he turned to her, and said, "By the way, I love you, and that's no lie."

"You better, and that's not a lie, either," she responded.

The lift doors shut, and the truth was that it was the end of the story, no lie.

~ THE END ~

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_A/N Do you know how evil I wanted to be...I wanted to post this last chapter on April 1st, and have everyone die, or lie, or something bad happen to them, at the end, and then the next day, send out a retraction that said, "April fools day...here's the real last chapter", but I thought everyone would get all mean and irritated with me. So the truth is that they really didn't die, or lie, but once again, it was a truly happy ending, because heaven knows I can't write them any other way._


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